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Book Jlj 



COPYRIGHT DEPOStK 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR 



THE ART OF LIVING 
LONG AND HAPPILY 



$1.00 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 



History of Oratory 
and Orators 



a study of the influence of oratory upon politics and 

literature, with special reference to certain 

orators selected as representative of their 

several epochs, from the earliest 

dawn of grecian civilization 

down tothe present day 






x N 



BY 






> 



HENRY HARDWICKE 

Member of the New York Bar ; The New York Historical Society ; The New York 

Genealogical and Biographical Society ; The Society of Medical 

Jurisprudence, etc. Author of " The Art of 'Winning Cases," 

" The Art of Living Long and Happily," etc. 



<T 



■ — ... * .---"7 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

NEW YORK LONDON 

27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 

£be Iinuktrbodur ^ress 
1896 






^' 



Copyright, 
by 



.*- ^ 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 



Ubc Iftnicfeerbocker press, IRew Iftocbelle, 1FU 18. 



INTRODUCTION. 

ORATORY is the parent of liberty. By the constitu- 
tion of things it was ordained that eloquence should 
be the last stay and support of liberty, and that with 
her she is ever destined to live, flourish, and to die. It is to 
the interest of tyrants to cripple and debilitate every species 
of eloquence. They have no other safety. It is, then, the 
duty of free states to foster oratory. 

The importance of oratory is attested by the belief, 
according to the fables of Greece and Egypt, that the art of 
eloquence was of celshsa^&tycrin, ascribed to the invention of 
a god, who, from th'< art, was supposed to 

be the messenger ancFlittS-J : Hjtynpus. It is also 

witnessed by the care w cultivated at 



Et. 



a period of the remotest antiquity."' ' ^moBe; / 

With the first glimpse of historica 
from the regions of mythology, in that dubio 
which scarcely descries the distinction between the fktior/s 
of pagan superstition and the narrative of real events, a 
school of oratory, established in the Peloponnesus, dawns 
upon our view. 

After the lapse of a thousand years from that time, Pau- 
sanius, a Grecian geographer and historian, says that he- 
had read a treatise upon the art composed by the founder 
of this school, a contemporary and relative of Theseus in 
the age preceding that of the Trojan war. 

As is stated elsewhere, the .poems of Homer abound with 
still more decisive proofs of the estimation in which the 
powers of oratory were held, and of the attention with 




vi IN TROD UC TION. 




which it was honoured as an object of instruction in the 
education of youth. 

From that time, through the long series of Greek and 
Roman history, down to the dark and forbidding period in 
which the glories of the Roman republic expired, the splen- 
dour and the triumphs of oratory are multiplied and con- 
spicuous. Then it was that the practice of the art attained 
a perfection which has not since been rivalled. 

Oratory was power, in the flourishing periods of Athens 
and Rome. Eloquence was the key to the highest digni- 
ties, the passport to the supreme dominion of the state. 
The voice of oratory was the thunder of Jupiter; the rod 
of Hermes was the sceptre of the empire. In proportion 
to the wonders she achieved, was the eagerness to acquire 
the art. Eloquence was taught as the occupation of a life. 
The course of instruction commenced with the infant in 
the cradle, and continued to manhood. It was one of the 
chief objects of education, and every other part of instruc- 
tion for childhood was compelled to yield to it. Letters, 
the sciences, arts, were to be.fl&a$££f^fl, upon the theory 
that an orator must be a nw: ^^.universal knowledge. 
Moral duties wt reason that none but a 

good man &u\^jh&£pind$r$0*- 

Learning, wisdom, even virtue herself, were estimated by 
tfaek stt^&$tfyie»€y to the purpose of eloquence, and the 
ity of man consisted in making himself a master of 
eloquence. 

With the dissolution of Roman liberty, and the decline of 
Roman taste, oratory fell into decay. 

In the United States, any one who knows the least of our 
system of government may perceive that every law that is 
passed must be submitted to the people in their representa- 
tive or collective capacity, and there is no man, no matter 
how humble his station in life, who may not be called upon to 
serve as a legislator, or as a member of some body in which 
the art of speaking and the art of reasoning become 
absolutely necessary. 

In political meetings which are held so often in our 



IN TROD UC TIOiV. VI 1 



country no man, thanks to the genius of our institutions, 
is precluded from delivering his sentiments with freedom 
upon any topic which it may be deemed expedient to con- 
sider, and the person who speaks well is sure never to miss 
applause, for by the aid of oratory useful truths are promul- 
gated with effect. In order to succeed, however, natural 
abilities require the assistance of art. It is absurd to 
imagine that art imposes any fetters upon genius ; she aids 
and directs it. 

Opinions differ as to the value of the ancient rhetorical 
writers. Lord Macaulay, in his essay, "On the Athenian Ora- 
tors" thought that the ancient writers upon the subject of 
oratory would afford us but little assistance. He says when 
they particularise they are generally trivial ; and when they 
would generalise they became indistinct. He says that 
while Aristotle was a great philosopher he was without im- 
agination, and that in Quintilian he can look for nothing but 
rhetoric, and rhetoric not of the highest order. Quintilian, 
undoubtedly, speaks coldly of ^Eschylus, while he warmly 
praises the plays of Euripides, and makes other erroneous 
judgments of the great classical writers of antiquity. With 
the merits of Cicero, every school-boy is familiar. 

Longinus gives us no general rules. He gives us, how- 
ever, many eloquent sentences, and Macaulay suggests very 
pertinently that " The Sublimities of Longinus " would be 
a better title for his treatise than " Longinus on the Sub- 
lime." 

It may be doubted, however, whether any compositions 
which have ever been produced since the dawn of civilisa- 
tion are equally perfect in their kind with the best orations 
of antiquity. From these the author has drawn freely. 

Bare allusion is made to the history of oratory in other 
countries than those in which we have given an account of 
it. The small opportunity afforded for a display of sena- 
torial or forensic oratory by the different governments of 
Germany has almost entirely checked its growth in that 
country, and the same remark is applicable to Spain, Portu- 
gal, and Italy. 



V i 1 1 IN TROD UC 770 AT. 



The difficulty which the author has experienced in select- 
ing representative orators has been very great. He is aware 
of the fact that many eloquent men are not included whose 
lives would prove interesting and instructive. 

The author ventures to indulge the hope that the noble 
lives he has put on record will act like an inspiration to 
others, for one of the great lessons of biography is to show 
what man can do by the development of his latent talents, and 
in this way the lives of great men are useful as guides, helps, 
and incentives to others. The splendour and variety of the 
lives of distinguished men make it somewhat difficult to dis- 
tinguish the portion of time which ought to be admitted 
into history, from that which should be given to biography. 
These two parts are so distinct and unlike that they cannot 
be confounded without great injury to both ; either when 
the writer of biography obscures the portrait of an individ- 
ual by a crowded picture of events, or when the historian 
allows unconnected narratives of the lives of men to break 
the thread of history. The author belives that the biogra- 
pher never ought to introduce public events except so far as 
they are necessary to the illustration of character, and that 
the historian should rarely digress in biographical particulars 
except as far as they contribute to the clearness of his narra- 
tive of occurrences. 

The lives of the subjects of the following sketches cannot 
become too well known on account of the usefulness of their 
examples. 

H. H. 
. New York, July, 1896. 



HISTORY OF ORATORY AND ORATORS. 



HISTORY OF ORATORY AND 
ORATORS. 



CHAPTER I. 



ORATORY IX GREECE. 



TO trace the history of eloquence from its first rude 
origin through the various ramifications of human 
genius ; to mark the powers, the characters of the 
many orators, in the different ages of society, who have em- 
ployed with success this fascinating art, would be a pleasing 
task. It would be instructive even to pursue the science as 
long as the records of civilised man permit, and to trace the 
progress of oratory from Pericles to the present time. But 
unfortunately the materials for such a critical investigation 
are few. The best effusions of oratory are but winged 
words. The music, the cadence, the action, with which 
they were graced, are lost, and even the substance of very 
few of the orations of antiquity are transmitted to us. 

Not many of the orations of Demosthenes have outlived 
the depredations of time. It is a well known fact that 
Cicero, for many years, spoke almost daily in public, and 
yet a very small proportion of his numerous orations were 
committed to writing. 

Oratory was, undoubtedly, studied and practised with 
considerable effect from almost the earliest periods. This 



2 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

is conclusively proved by the specimens of eloquence which 
we find recorded in the oldest writings extant. 

Like their poetry, the oratory of the Hebrews was short 
and sententious, but in the speeches of Moses, and Samuel, 
and in the Book of Job, we have many beautiful examples 
of the sublime and pathetic in oratory. 

The speeches in Homer are worthy of study. It is said 
that these speeches were composed by Homer, and are not 
to be ascribed to the characters from whose mouths they 
are supposed to issue, nor to the period in which they ex- 
isted. This may be true, but the Iliad is known to be a 
dramatic representation of the age in which the poet lived; 
hence two inferences will follow — that it was then customary 
to address public assemblies in the manner of the heroes 
of Homer — and that no inconsiderable progress must have 
been made in eloquence as an art. 

Eloquence is only to be looked for in free states, and free 
states are only to be found where eloquence is assiduously 
cultivated. Longinus, in his treatise on the sublime, says 
that liberty is the nurse of true genius ; it animates the 
spirit and invigorates the hopes of men ; excites honorable 
emulation, and a desire of excelling in every art. 

In tracing the rise of oratory it is needless to go too far 
back in the early ages of the world, or delve for it among 
the monuments of Eastern or Egyptian antiquity. There 
was eloquence of a certain kind in those ages, but it was 
more like poetry than oratory. Philologists believe that 
the language of the first ages was passionate and metaphori- 
cal, owing to the small stock of words then known, and to 
the tincture which language naturally takes from the barba- 
rous and uncultivated state of men, agitated by unrestrained 
passions, and struck by events, the causes of which, to them, 
were unknown. Rapture and enthusiasm, the parents of 
poetry, had an ample field in this state. 

While the intercourse between different countries was un- 
frequent, when the words stranger and enemy were synony- 
mous, and force and strength were the chief means employed 
in deciding controversies, the arts of oratory were compara- 



ORATORY IN GREECE. 3 

tively unknown. The Assyrian and Egyptian empires, the 
first that arose, were despotic in character, and the people 
were led, or driven, not persuaded, and none of those refine- 
ments of society which make public speaking an object of 
importance were as yet introduced. 

One of the earliest accounts of a trial is that which Homer 
has given us in his description of the shield made by He- 
phaestion, at the request of Thetis, for Achilles. The parties 
are represented as pleading themselves before the judges. 

" The people thronged the forum, where arose 
The strife of tongues, and two contending stood : 
The one asserting that he had paid the mulct, 
The price of blood for having slain a man ; 
The other claiming still the fine as due. 
Both eager to the judges made appeal. 
The crowds, by heralds scarce kept back, with shouts 
And cheers applauded loudly each in turn. 
On smooth and polished stones, a sacred ring, 
The elders sat, and in their hands their staves 
Of office held, to hear and judge the cause ; 
While in the midst two golden talents lay, 
The prize of him who should most justly plead." 

From the time of Homer to the age of Pericles, there are 
no authentic orations on record. 

The eloquence of Pericles must have been of a high order, 
for by his eloquence and his policy his influence was supreme 
in Athenian affairs for many years. 

It is said that Pericles was the first Athenian who com- 
posed, and put into writing, an oration designed for the pub- 
lic. The golden age of Grecian eloquence extended from 
the time of Solon (about 600 B.C.) to that of Alexander 
(B.C. 336). Within this space the most renowned orators 
flourished. This was the brightest period in the history of 
Greece, at the close of which her sun went down in clouds, 
and never rose again in its native, dazzling splendour. It is 
said that Anaxagoras instructed Pericles in the sublimest 
sciences, and that Pericles acquired from him not only an 



4 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

elevation of sentiment, but a loftiness and purity of style 
far superior to that of any of his cotemporaries. Pericles 
was also noted for a remarkable gravity of countenance 
which never relaxed into laughter, a firm and even tone of 
voice, an easy deportment, and a decency of dress which no 
vehemence of speaking ever put into disorder. 

These things and others of a like nature excited the 
admiration of his countrymen. In commenting upon the 
character of this wonderful man, Plutarch says : " The beauty 
of goodness has an attractive power; it kindles in us at 
once an active principle ; it forms our manners, and influences 
our desires, not only when represented in a living example, 
but even in an historical description. " 

When the name of Pericles is mentioned to a lover of 
liberty, a crowd of glorious associations is called up. The 
splendid funeral oration over those who fell in the Pelopon- 
nesian war, is one of the grandest productions of antiquity. 
It exhibits a strong and ardent attachment to country, 
which true patriots always feel, and an undaunted courage 
in its defence, and willingness to pledge everything for the 
maintenance of civil liberty. Many portions of this peer- 
less oration are almost as applicable to America as to 
Athens when delivered, but if the merits of the martyrs and 
heroes of the American Revolution could be justly set forth 
by an orator equal to the task, the renowned oration of 
Pericles would be eclipsed. 

The author cannot forbear quoting a few passages from 
that celebrated address : 

" I shall begin, first, with our ancestors, to whom it is at 
once just and becoming, on such an occasion as the present, 
that this honour of our commemoration should be paid ; for 
the' country which was ever their own home, they have 
handed down in the line of their successors to the present 
day, free, through their valour. Both they indeed are 
worthy of our praise, and still more our own fathers ; for 
having, in addition to what they inherited, acquired, not 
without hardship, the dominion which we possess, they have 
transmitted it to us. 



OR A TOR Y IN GREECE. 5 



"The greater portion of it indeed we ourselves, who are 
yet at the meridian of life, have still further augmented, till 
we have placed the city in all things in such a state of 
preparation that it is all-sufficient in itself for war and for 
peace. 

" The warlike deeds by which all this has been effected, 
either by ourselves or by our fathers, in strenuously resisting 
the invasions, whether of barbarians or of Greeks, I omit, 
not wishing to enlarge upon them before the well informed ; 
but by what conduct we have come to this condition, by 
what policy and by what manners these great results have 
been brought about, these I will set forth before the eulogy 
of the deceased, deeming these things not inappropriate to 
be spoken on this occasion ; and that it will be beneficial 
to the whole assembly of strangers and citizens to listen 
to them. 

" For we enjoy a form of government not emulating the 
laws of neighbouring states, being ourselves rather a model 
to others than copying from them. It has been called by 
the name of Democracy, as being the government not of the 
few but of the majority. It secures to all, under the laws, 
equality in their private controversies, — in proportion as a 
citizen is in any respect in good repute, he is preferred above 
others, not more on account of the class to which he may 
belong than his own merit ; while, on the other hand, as to 
poverty, no one qualified to serve the state is prevented 
from doing so by the obscurity of his condition. We per- 
form our public duties on these liberal principles ; and as to 
mutual supervision in reference to the daily course of life, 
we take no offence at our neighbour for following his own in- 
clination, nor do we subject ourselves to the annoyance of 
austerities which are painful, if not injurious. In this pane- 
gyric of the state of things in Athens there is a constant, 
though tacit contrast with the Spartan institutions and 
character. 

" While our private intercourse, therefore, is without 
offence in our public concerns, we mainly fear to act ille- 
gally, ever obeying the magistrates for the time being and 



6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

the laws, especially such of them as are passed for the pro- 
tection of the oppressed, and such, though unwritten, as 
cannot be broken without acknowledged shame. 

" Having displayed our power in noble manifestations, 
and most assuredly not without witnesses, we shall be the 
admiration of the present age and of posterity, not needing 
in addition the eulogy of Homer, or of any other poet, 
whose descriptions will charm the ear at the time, but whose 
conceptions of deeds is at variance with the truth; but hav- 
ing forced every sea and every land to be accessible to our 
enterprise, and having everywhere planted, together with 
our settlements, eternal monuments of injuries and of bene- 
fits. Combating therefore generously for such a city, and 
thinking it unjust that it should be wrested from them, 
these men laid down their lives ; and, of those who survive, 
it behooves every one to labour and suffer for it. 



" Such, then, as became the city, were the departed. As for 
those who remain, you may desire indeed a safer career, but 
you must not deign to cherish a spirit in any degree less 
resolute toward the enemy ; — having regard not merely to 
the words of persons not wiser than yourselves, who may 
harangue you upon the honour of gallant resistance to the 
foe, but rather daily contemplating indeed the power of the 
state, till you become enamoured of it ; and when you have 
come to perceive its greatness, reflecting that brave men 
knowing their duty, and in their deeds shrinking from dis- 
honour, have achieved it, — men who, even though they might 
fail in an enterprise, still felt that they ought not to deprive 
the 1 country of the benefit of their valour, but lavished upon 
it the most precious offering. Thus giving their lives to the 
public they received individually the praise that grows not 
old, and a most distinguished sepulchre, not so much that in 
which their bodies lie, as that in which their glory — on 
every occasion of word or deed — shall be left in everlasting 
remembrance. 



ORA TOR Y IN GREECE. J 

" For of illustrious men the whole earth is the sepulchre, 
and not the inscription alone of columns in their native land 
indicates it, but in countries also not their own, the un- 
written memory which abides with every man of the spirit 
more than the deed. 

" Emulous of men like these, do you also, placing your 
happiness in liberty, and your liberty in courage, shun no 
w r arlike dangers in defence of your country." 

Pericles was not only an orator, but a statesman, and a 
general ; expert in business, and of consummate address. 
He had the surname of Olympias given him, and it was said, 
that, like Jupiter, he thundered when he spoke, but whether 
he could out-thunder Jupiter or not, is not certainly known. 
He was, however, humane, just, and patriotic, as well as 
generous, magnanimous, and public-spirited. The people 
had absolute confidence in his integrity, and never was that 
confidence betrayed. Although having ample opportunities 
to do so, he did not accumulate a fortune for himself, but 
spent vast sums of money in beautifying Athens, and in 
public works of great utility. 

At his death he valued himself chiefly on having never 
obliged any citizen to wear mourning on his account. 

After Pericles, those who were most noted for their elo- 
quence, were Cleon, Alcibiades, Critias, and Theramenes. 

The style of oratory which then prevailed was concise, 
vehement, and manly. 

Eloquence was more assiduously cultivated after the death 
of Pericles than it was before. The precepts of oratory had 
not, until that time, been collected and reduced to anything 
like a system. There had been orators before the time of 
Pericles, of course, but in the nature of things, practice must 
precede theory. Oratory was undoubtedly prior in point of 
time to rhetoric. This must be the case with all arts. Many 
houses must have been built before a system of architecture 
could be formed ; many poems composed before an art of 
poetry could be written. 

All didactic treatises must, necessarily, consist of rules 
resulting from experience, and that experience must be 



8 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

founded on previous practice. So, at the period mentioned,, 
a set of men called rhetoricians, and sometimes sophists,, 
sprang up. They were especially plentiful during the Pelo- 
ponnesian war. Among them were Protagoras, Prodicus, 
and Thrasymus. The most eminent of the sophists, how- 
ever, was Gorgias of Leontium. The most of the sophists 
joined to the art of rhetoric as taught by them, a subtile logic 
— and they were a sort of metaphysical skeptics, according 
to some writers, but Gorgias was a professed master of elo- 
quence only. He was highly venerated in Leontium of 
Sicily, his native city, and money is said to have been coined 
with his name upon it. His style was quaint and highly 
artificial, and the fragment of his, which has been preserved,, 
abounds in antithetical expressions. In the hands of men 
like Gorgias, who professed to teach others how to speak for 
and against every cause whatever, oratory degenerated into 
a trifling and sophistical art. They were the first corrupters 
of true eloquence. The great and good Socrates exploded 
the doctrines of the sophists, and recalled the attention of 
the Athenians to natural language and useful thought. 

Isocrates flourished in the same age, but a little later than 
Socrates. His writings are still extant. He was a teacher 
of eloquence, and an orator of ability, but his orations are 
greatly wanting in vigour. They have, however, been much 
admired on account of the sound morality which they incul- 
cate, and for the smoothness and elegancy of the orator's 
style. Isocrates is said to have been the first rhetorician 
who introduced regular periods which had a studied music 
and harmonious cadence. He spent ten years in polishing 
one discourse, still extant, the Panegyric. Cicero was an 
admirer and, in some respects, an imitator of Isocrates, but 
it must be said to his credit, that he recognised and avoided 
his chief faults — his affectation, and the tiresomely uniform, 
regular cadence of his sentences. 

Isaeus and Lysias belong also to this period. Lysias was 
somewhat earlier than Isocrates, but, unlike the latter, his 
style was unaffected and simple. He was a lawyer by pro-, 
fession, and his eloquence is almost exclusively forensic. 



ORATORY IN GREECE. 9 



Thirty-four of his orations have been transmitted to us, and 
for their acuteness, clearness, and the method shown in their 
composition would not be bad models for the forensic 
orators of our own day, if we could not hear better ones in 
our courts at almost any time. 

Isseus is chiefly remarkable for being the teacher of 
Demosthenes, the greatest orator, in many respects, that 
ever lived. The circumstances of his life are well known, 
and it is needless to dwell upon them at length. His ambi- 
tion to excel in the art of speaking ; his frequent failures ; 
his untiring perseverance in surmounting all the disadvan- 
tages of person and address which he laboured under ; his 
resolution in shutting himself up in his subterranean retreat, 
that he might study without being disturbed ; his declama- 
tions by the seashore that he might accustom himself to the 
noise of a tumultuous assembly, and his use of pebbles in 
his mouth while practising, in order to cure certain defects 
of speech ; his speaking at home with a naked sword sus- 
pended over his shoulder, that he might check a habit which 
he had of raising and lowering it, to which he was subject, — 
all these circumstances show us how much can be accom- 
plished by industry and application, and what great labour 
is necessary for the attainment of excellence in the art of 
oratory. 

Demosthenes, despising the affected style of the orators of 
his day, chose Pericles as his model, hence the chief charac- 
teristics of his style were strength and vehemence. 

Demosthenes had a wide field for the display of patriotic 
eloquence, when Philip of Macedon, by the aid of the most 
insidious arts, endeavoured to lay the Greeks asleep to their 
danger, and by force and fraud to overthrow Grecian liberty. 
He first crushed his enemies at home and then enlarged his 
kingdom abroad, then invited by the Thessalians to assist 
them against the Phocians, he sent an army into Thessaly, 
and made a determined and bold attempt to seize the key 
of Greece, the famous pass of Thermopylae. This decisive 
movement alarmed the Athenians at last, and an assembly of 
the people was convened for the purpose of determining the 



10 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



best course to be pursued for the purpose of arresting the 
progress of the enterprising Macedonian tyrant. Rising, 
like one inspired, Demosthenes, at this meeting, delivered, 
in impassioned tones, his first Philippic, and urged his hear- 
ers to make vigorous war against Philip. He realised the 
true state of affairs. He knew that many of the people had 
become corrupt and degenerate and incapable of estimating 
at its true value the great blessings of civil liberty ; that 
traitors to their country, in the pay of Philip, were continu- 
ally urging the people not to fight against him, and knowing 
these facts he governed himself accordingly. The following 
are some of the best passages from this famous speech : 

" When, therefore, O my countrymen ! when will you 
exert your vigour ? Do you wait till roused by some dire 
event ? till forced by some necessity ? What then are we to 
think of our present condition ? To freemen, the disgrace 
attending on misconduct is, in my opinion, the most urgent 
necessity. Or say, is it your sole ambition to wander through 
the public places, each inquiring of the other, ' what new 
advices ? ' Can anything be more new than that a man of 
Macedon should conquer the Athenians and give law to 
Greece ? ' Is Philip dead ? ' ' No ; but he is sick.' Pray 
what is it to you whether Philip is sick or not. Supposing 
he should die, you would raise up another Phillip, if you con- 
tinue thus regardless of your interest ! 

" Then as to your own conduct, some wander about, cry- 
ing, Philip hath joined with the Lacedemonians, and they 
are concerting the destruction of Thebes. Others assure us 
that he has sent an embassy to the king of Persia ; others, 
that he is fortifying places in Illyria. Thus we all go about 
framing our several tales. I do believe, indeed, Athenians ! 
he is intoxicated with his greatness, and does entertain his 
imagination with many such visionary prospects, as he sees no 
power rising to oppose him, and is elated with his success." 

He continues in the same high strain in the third Phi- 
lippic : 

"All Greece, all the barbarian world, is too narrow for 
this man's ambition. And though we Greeks see and 



OR A TOR Y IN GREECE. \ \ 



hear all this, we send no embassies to each other ; we ex- 
press no resentment ; but into such wretchedness are we 
sunk, that even to this day we neglect what our interest 
and duty demand. Without engaging in associations, or 
forming confederacies, we look with unconcern upon Phil- 
ip's growing power, each fondly imagining that the time in 
which another is destroyed is so much time gained on him ; 
although no man can be ignorant that, like the regular 
periodic return of a fever, he is coming upon those who 
think themselves the most remote from danger. 

" And what is the cause of our present passive disposition ? 
For some cause sure there must be ; why the Greeks, who 
have been so zealous heretofore in defence of liberty, are 
now so prone to slavery. The cause, Athenians, is that a 
principle which was formerly fixed in the minds of all, now 
exists no more ; a principle which conquered the opulence 
of Persia, maintained the freedom of Greece, and triumphed 
over the powers of sea and land. That principle was an 
unanimous abhorrence of all those who accepted bribes 
from princes that were enemies to the liberties of Greece. 
To be convicted of bribery was then a crime altogether un- 
pardonable. Neither orators nor generals would then sell for 
gold the favourable conjunctures which fortune put into their 
hands. No gold could impair our firm concord at home, 
our hatred of tyrants and barbarians. But now all things 
are exposed to sale as in a public market. Corruption has 
introduced such manners as have proved the bane and 
destruction of our country. Is a man known to have re- 
ceived foreign money ? People envy him. Does he own it ? 
They laugh. Is he convicted in form? They forgive him. 
So universally has this contagion diffused itself among us." 

Sometimes Demosthenes found it difficult to arouse the 
Athenians to a just sense of their real danger. On one occa- 
sion when he was desirous of addressing a large meeting in 
the city, the people would not have heard him with atten- 
tion, if he had not informed them that he only wished to 
tell them a story. Hearing this, he received their attention, 
and he commenced as follows : " Once upon a time there 



1 2 HIS TOR Y OF OR A TOR Y. 



was a man who hired an ass to go from this city to Megara. 
About noon, when the sun was burning hot, both the driver 
and the hirer sought the shade of the ass, and mutually hin- 
dered each other. The owner said that the traveller had hired 
his ass, and not its shadow. The traveller, in opposition to 
him, maintained that the whole ass was under his jurisdiction." 
Having thus commenced his story, he withdrew. The people 
recalled him, and begged him to finish the story. He said 
to them : " Ah ! how eager you are to hear a story about 
an ass's shadow, and you will not listen when I speak of your 
most important affairs ! " Philip was not idle while the 
Athenians were wasting their time in fruitless discussion. 
Under pretence of attacking the Locrians, he marched his 
army into Greece, captured Elataea, a city of Phocis, not 
very far distant from Athens. The capture of this place, 
which was one of great importance, opened to Philip a 
passage into Attica. The Athenians were struck with ter- 
ror upon the announcement of this event. In his oration 
on the crown Demosthenes graphically described the scene 
of dismay and confusion which prevailed at Athens when 
the news was received. He said : 

"Thus successful in confirming the mutual separation of 
our states, and elevated by these decrees and these replies, 
Philip now leads his forces forward and seizes Elataea. You 
are no strangers to the confusion which this event raised 
within these walls. Yet permit me to relate some few strik- 
ing circumstances of our own consternation. It was evening. 
A courier arrived, and repairing to the presidents of the 
senate, informed them that Elataea was taken. In a mo- 
ment some started from supper, ran to the public place, 
drove the traders from their stations, and set fire to their 
sheds ; some sent round to call the generals; others clamoured 
for the trumpeter. Thus was the city one scene of tumult. 
The next morning, by dawn of day, the presidents sum- 
moned the senate. The people were instantly collected, and 
before any regular authority could convene their assembly, 
the whole body of citizens had taken their places above. 
Then the senate entered ; the presidents reported their 



OR A TOR Y IN GREECE. 1 3 



advices, and produced the courier. He repeated his intelli- 
gence. The herald then asked in form, ' Who chooses to 
speak ? ' All was silence. The invitation was frequently 
repeated. Still no man arose ; though the ordinary speak- 
ers were all present ; though the voice of Athens then called 
on some man to speak and save her ; for surely the regular 
and legal proclamation of the herald may be fairly deemed 
the voice of Athens. If an honest solicitude for the preser- 
vation of the state had on this occasion been sufficient to 
call forth a speaker ; then, my countrymen, ye must have all 
risen and crowded to the gallery, for well I know this honest 
solicitude had full possession of your hearts. If wealth had 
obliged a man to speak, the three hundred must have risen. 
If patriotic zeal and wealth united were the qualifications 
necessary for the speaker, then should we have heard those 
generous citizens, whose beneficence was afterward displayed 
so nobly in the service of the state ; for their beneficence 
proceeded from this union of wealth and patriotic zeal. 
But the occasion, the great day, it seems, called, not only 
for a well-affected and an affluent citizen, but for the man 
who had traced these affairs to their very source ; who had 
formed the exactest judgment of Philip's motives, of his 
secret intentions in this his conduct. He who was not per- 
fectly informed of these ; he who had not watched the whole 
progress of his actions with consummate vigilance, however 
zealously affected to the state, however blessed with wealth, 
was in no wise better qualified to conceive or to propose the 
measures which your interests demanded on an occasion 
so critical. On that day then, I was the man who stood 
forth." 

In commenting on this passage Mr. Goodrich eloquently 
says: " Demosthenes gives us a picture of the scene by a few 
distinct, characteristic touches — the presidents starting from 
their seats in the midst of supper — rushing into the market- 
place — tearing down the booths around it — burning up the 
hurdles even, though the space would not be wanted till the 
next day — sending for the generals — crying out for the 
trumpeter — the council meeting on the morrow at break of 



14 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



day — the people (usually so reluctant to attend) pouring 
along to the assembly before the council had found a mo- 
ment's opportunity to inquire or agree on measures — the 
entering of the council into the assembly — their announcing 
the news — their bringing forward the messenger to tell his 
story ; and then the proclamation of the herald, ' Who will 
speak?' — the silence of all — the voice of their common 
country, crying out again through the herald, ' Who will 
speak for our deliverance ? ' — all remaining silent — when 
Demosthenes arose, and suggested measures which caused 
all these dangers to pass away like a cloud ! " 

An able writer, Mr. Harsha, says that " Demosthenes on 
this occasion aroused his countrymen with a burst of elo- 
quence which must have made even the iron will of Philip 
to falter on the throne of Macedon. It was then that he de- 
livered that exciting oration which made the whole assembly 
cry out with one voice : ' To arms ! to arms ! Lead us 
against Philip ! ' 

"Two thousand years afterwards, the same enthusiasm 
which then, amid their graceful columns, inspired the ex- 
citable Athenians, and filled their spacious amphitheatre with 
a shout that rose to the warm, blue sky of Greece, awoke 
among sterner men, in a colder climate, and made the plain 
walls of a church in Virginia echo with a cry as bold and 
more, determined. That was in response to the words of 
Patrick Henry, the forest-born Demosthenes, when he 
uttered in tones of thunder those ever-memorable words : 
' I know not what course others may take, but, as for me, 
give me LIBERTY, or give me DEATH ! ' 

" It is in the darkest crises of national struggles for inde- 
pendence, amid storms and tempests, that we see the great- 
est political orators arise, and hear the thunders of their 
mighty eloquence, shaking thrones and kingdoms to their 
centre. It is then that we hear them exclaim with Patrick 
Henry, ' Whatever others do, I '11 fight ! ' and with John 
Adams, at the solemn crisis of the vote of the 4th of July, 
1776, ' Independence now, and Independence forever! ' 

The Athenians, on the proposal of Ctesiphon, decreed 



ORATORY IN GREECE. 1 5 



Demosthenes a crown of gold, in consideration of the many 
valuable public services which he had rendered the state. 

The reward was strongly opposed by his rival and personal 
enemy, yEschines — one of the greatest orators of that age, — 
who brought a suit against Ctesiphon which was intended to 
defeat Demosthenes. This famous prosecution was begun 
about the year 338 B.C. ; the trial, however, was delayed eight 
years. When it came on an immense crowd of people from 
all parts of Greece went to Athens to witness the contest 
between the two great intellectual gladiators. 

yEschines' speech was powerful and sarcastic. He w r as 
twelve years older than his rival, and it is said that his elo- 
quence was distinguished by a happy flow of words, by an 
abundance and clearness of ideas, and by an air of great 
ease, which arose less from art than nature. The ancient 
writers appear to agree in this, that the manner of ^Eschines 
is softer, more insinuating, and more delicate than that of 
Demosthenes, but that the latter is more grave, forcible, and 
convincing. The one has more of address, and the other 
more of strength and energy. The one endeavours to steal, 
the other to force, the assent of his auditors. In the har- 
mony and elegance, the strength and beauty of their lan- 
guage, both are deserving of high commendation, but the 
figures of the one are finer, of the other, bolder. In 
Demosthenes we see a more sustained effort ; in ^Eschines, 
" vivid though momentary flashes of oratory." 

The following brief extract from ^Eschines' oration will 
afford the reader a specimen of his style : 

11 When Demosthenes boasts to you, O Athenians, of his 
democratic zeal, examine not his harangues, but his life ; not 
what he professes to be, but what he really is ; redoubtable 
in words, impotent in deeds ; plausible in speech, perfidious 
in action. As to his courage — has he not himself, before 
the assembled people, confessed his poltroonery? By the 
laws of Athens, the man who refuses to bear arms, the 
coward, the deserter of his post in battle, is excluded from 
all share in the public deliberations, denied admission to 
our religious rites, and rendered incapable of receiving the 



1 6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



honour of a crown. Yet now it is proposed to crown a man 
whom your laws expressly disqualify ! 

" Which think you was the more worthy citizen, Themis- 
tocles, who commanded your fleet when you vanquished the 
Persians at Salamis, or Demosthenes, the deserter ? Mil- 
tiades, who conquered the barbarians at Marathon, or this 
hireling traitor? Aristides, surnamed the Just, or Demos- 
thenes, who merits a far different surname? By all the 
Gods of Olympus, it is a profanation to mention in the same 
breath this monster and those great men ! Let him cite, if 
he can, one among them all to whom a crown was decreed. 
And was Athens ungrateful? No ! She was magnanimous ; 
and those uncrowned citizens were worthy of Athens. They 
placed their glory, not in the letter of a decree, but in the 
remembrance of a country, of which they had merited well, 
— in the living, imperishable remembrance ! 

"And now a popular orator — the mainspring of our 
calamities, a deserter from the field of battle, a deserter 
from the city — claims of us a crown, exacts the honour of a 
proclamation ! Crown him ? Proclaim his worth ? My 
countrymen, this would not be to exalt Demosthenes, but 
to degrade yourselves, — to dishonor those brave men who 
perished for you in battle. Crown him ! Shall his 
recreancy win what was denied to their devotion ? This 
would indeed be to insult the memory of the dead, and to 
paralyse the emulation of the living ! 

" From those who fell at Marathon and at Plataea — from 
Themistocles — from the sepulchres of your ancestors — issues 
the protesting groan of condemnation and rebuke ! " 

./Eschines did not receive a fifth part of the votes of the 
judges, and in consequence, by the laws of Athens, he thus 
became liable to fine and banishment, and accordingly went 
in exile to Rhodes. He established there a school in rheto- 
ric, in which he read the two orations to his pupils. While 
his was received with approbation, that of Demosthenes was 
received with the greatest applause. " What then would 
you have thought, had you heard the lion himself," said 
^Eschines. 



ORATORY IN GREECE. iy 



" The greatest oration of the greatest orator," said Lord 
Brougham of this speech. The oration abounds in eloquent 
passages, and in magnificent expressions. 

From this oration, which for sarcasm, invective, and 
declamation, as well as all that is glorious in eloquence, has 
no equal, in any language, the author selects the following 
passage, containing the celebrated oath by those who fell at 
Marathon, ancf setting forth the public spirit of the Athen- 
ians : " The Athenians never were known to live contented 
in a slavish though secure obedience to unjust and arbitrary 
power. No. Our whole history is a series of gallant con- 
tests for pre-eminence ; the whole period of our national 
existence hath been spent in braving dangers for the sake 
of glory and renown. And so highly do you esteem such 
conduct as characteristic of the Athenian spirit, that those 
of your ancestors who were most eminent for it are ever the 
most favourite objects of your praise. And with reason ; for 
who can reflect, without astonishment, on the magnanimity 
of those men who resigned their lands, gave up their city, and 
embarked in their ships rather than live at the bidding of a 
stranger? The Athenians of that day looked out for no 
speaker, no general, to procure them a state of easy slavery. 
They had the spirit to reject even life, unless they were 
allowed to enjoy that life in freedom. For it was a princi- 
ple fixed deeply in every breast, that man was not born to 
his parents only, but to his country. And mark the distinc- 
tion. He who regards himself as born only to his parents 
waits in passive submission for the hour of his natural disso- 
lution. He who considers that he is the child of his country 
also, volunteers to meet death rather than behold that 
country reduced to vassalage ; and thinks those insults and 
disgraces which he must endure, in a state enslaved, much 
more terrible than death. 

" Should I attempt to assert that it was I who inspired 
you with sentiments worthy of your ancestors, I should 
meet the just resentment of every hearer. No ; it is my 
point to show that such sentiments are properly your own ; 
that they were the sentiments of my country long before my 



1 8 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

days. I claim but my share of merit in having acted on 
such principles in every part of my administration. He, 
then, who condemns every part of my administration ; he 
who directs you to treat me with severity, as one who hath 
involved the state in terrors and dangers, while he labours 
to deprive me of present honour, robs you of all the ap- 
plause of posterity. For, if you now pronounce that, as 
my public conduct hath not been right, Ctesiphon must 
stand condemned, it must be thought that you yourselves 
have acted wrong, not that you owe your present state to the 
caprice of fortune. But it cannot be ! No, my countrymen, 
it cannot be that you have acted wrong in encountering dan- 
ger bravely for the liberty and safety of all Greece. No ! I 
swear it by the spirits of our sires, who rushed upon destruc- 
tion at Marathon ! by those who stood arrayed at Plataea ! 
by those who fought the sea-fight at Salamis ! by the men 
of Artemisium ! by the others so many and so brave, who 
now rest in our public sepulchres ! all of whom their country 
judged worthy of the same honour ; all, I say, ^Eschines ; 
not those only who were victorious. And with reason. 
What was the part of gallent men, they all performed. 
Their success was such as the Supreme Ruler of the world 
dispensed to each." 

Panurge, in Rabelais, when in need, practised sixty-three 
methods of procuring money, the most honest of which was 
to steal. iEschines, the rival of Demosthenes, likewise left 
no stone unturned when he got into a tight place. He was 
guilty of dissimulation, inventions of various kinds, altera- 
tions of dates, and texts — all arms, he thought, lawful, in 
his contest with Demosthenes. 

The style of Demosthenes is " strong and concise, though 
sometimes, it must not be dissembled, harsh, and abrupt. 
His words are very expressive ; his management is firm and 
manly ; and though far from being unmusical, yet it seems 
difficult to find in him that studied but concealed number 
and rhythmus, which some of the ancient critics are fond 
of attributing to him. Negligent of these lesser graces, one 
would rather conceive him to have aimed at that sublime 



ORATORY IN GREECE. 1 9 



which lies in sentiment. His action and pronunciation are 
recorded to have been uncommonly vehement and ardent ; 
which, from the manner of his composition, we are naturally 
led to believe. The character which one forms of him, from 
reading his works, is of the austere, rather than the gentle 
kind. He is on every occasion grave, serious, passionate ; 
takes everything on a high .tone ; never lets himself down, 
nor attempts anything like pleasantry. If any fault can be 
found with his admirable eloquence, it is, that he sometimes 
borders on the high and dry. He may be thought to want 
smoothness and grace, which Dionysius of Halicarnassus 
attributes to his imitating too closely the manner of Thu- 
cydides, who was his great model for style, and whose history 
he is said to have written eight times over with his own 
hand. But these defects are far more than compensated, by 
that admirable and masterly force of masculine eloquence 
which, as it overpowered all who heard it, cannot at this day 
be read without emotion." Another critic says : " The style 
of Demosthenes is so strong, so close and nervous ; it is 
everywhere so just, so exactly concise, that there is nothing 
too much or too little. What distinguishes his eloquence is 
the impetuosity of the expression, the choice of words, and 
the beauty of the disposition ; which, being supported 
throughout and accompanied with force and sweetness, 
keeps the attention of the judges perpetually fixed." 

" What we admire in Demosthenes is the plan, the series, 
and the order and disposition of the oration ; it is the 
strength of the proofs, the solidity of the arguments, the 
grandeur and nobleness of the sentiments and of the style, 
the vivacity of the turns and figures ; in a word, the won- 
derful art of representing the subjects he treats in all their 
lustre, and displaying them in all their strength." 

The author of the Dialogues Concerning Eloquence says : 
" Demosthenes moves, warms, and captivates the heart. 
Every oration of his is a close chain of reasoning that 
represents the generous notions of a soul who disdains 
any thought that is not great. His discourses gradually 
increase in force by greater light and new reasons, which 



20 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



are always illustrated by bold figures and lively images. 
One cannot but see that he has the good of the republic 
entirely at heart, and that nature itself speaks in all his 
transports, for his artful address is so masterly that it never 
appears. Nothing ever equalled the force and vehemence 
of his discourses." 

To his admirable delivery, Demosthenes, in his orations, 
joined the equal force of great and noble expressions, of 
lively descriptions, of pathetic passages, and of rhetorical 
images proper to affect, and make strong impressions 
upon the mind. In short, nearly all his orations are full 
of expressive figures, of frequent apostrophes, and reiter- 
ated interrogations, which gave life and vigour to, and 
animated all he said. 

Longinus, in his comparison between Demosthenes and 
Cicero, compares the eloquence of the former to lightning, 
and of the latter to a great fire. He says the eloquence of 
Demosthenes is a whirlwind and a clap of thunder that 
overturns all things, and that of Cicero like a great fire 
which devours all things. So that violence and impetuous- 
ness make up the character of Demosthenes' eloquence, and 
the progress of a great fire, which advances by degrees, to- 
gether with the heat and insinuating virtue of fire, are the 
principal qualities of that of Cicero. The Grecian breaks 
out like thunder. The Roman warms and inflames like a 
great fire. Longinus therefore adds that Demosthenes 
never failed of success, when he was to strike terror into the 
minds of his audience, and to work upon them by strong 
representations and violent motions. But when it was 
necessary to go to the very heart, and to insinuate one's 
self into the mind, by all those graces and pleasing charms 
which eloquence is mistress of ; then it was that Cicero's art 
was triumphant, and that his diffused, enlarged discourse 
succeeded far better than the more close and concise style 
of Demosthenes ; and the one is no more prevalent by the 
eclat, the surprising strength of his reasons, than the other 
is by the warming and affecting emotions he raises. 

It is said that before the time of Demosthenes, " there 



OR A TOR Y IN GREECE. 2 1 



existed three distinct styles of eloquence : that of Lysias, 
mild and persuasive, quietly engaged the attention, and 
won the assent of an audience ; that of Thucydides, bold 
and animated, awakened the feelings and powerfully forced 
conviction on the mind ; while that of Isocrates was, as it 
were, a combination of the two former. Demosthenes can 
scarcely be said to have proposed any individual as a model, 
although he bestowed so much untiring labor on the histo- 
ian of the Peloponnesian war. He rather culled all that was 
valuable from the various styles of his great predecessors, 
working them up, and blending them into one harmonious 
whole : not, however, that there is such a uniformity or 
mannerism in his works as prevents him from, applying him- 
self with versatility to a variety of subjects ; on the contrary, 
he seems to have had the power of carrying each individual 
style to perfection, and of adapting himself with equal excel- 
lence to each successive topic. In the general structure of 
many of his sentences, he resembles Thucydides ; but he is 
more simple and perspicuous, and better calculated to be 
quickly comprehended by an audience. On the other hand 
his clearness in narration, his elegance and purity of. diction, 
and (to borrow a metaphor from a sister art) his correct 
keeping, remind the reader of Lysias. But the argumenta- 
tive part of the speeches of Lysias are often deficient in 
vigour ; whereas earnestness, power, zeal, rapidity, and pas- 
sion, all exemplified in plain, unornamented language, and a 
strain of close, business-like reasoning, are the distinctive 
characteristics of Demosthenes. The general tone of his 
oratory was admirably adapted to an Athenian audience, 
constituted as it was of those whose habits of life were 
mechanical, and of those whom ambition or taste had led to 
the cultivation of literature. The former were captivated by 
sheer sense, urged with masculine force and inextinguish- 
able spirit, and by the forcible application of plain truths ; 
and yet there was enough of grace and variety to please 
more learned and fastidious auditors." Another writer says: 
" His style is rapid harmony, exactly adjusted to the sense ; 
it is vehement reasoning, without any appearance of art ; it 



22 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



is disdain, anger, boldness, freedom, involved in a continued 
stream of argument ; and of all human productions, the 
orations of Demosthenes present to us the models which 
approach the nearest to perfection." 

One of the most noticeable excellences of Demosthenes is 
the collocation of his words. The orators of ancient Greece 
studied assiduously the art of arranging sentences in such a 
manner that their cadences should be harmonious, and, to a 
certain degree, rhythmical, and the simplicity remarkable in 
the structure of the periods of Demosthenes is itself the 
result of art. 

The question has often been asked, What is the secret of 
the success of Demosthenes ? How did he attain pre-emi- 
nence among orators ? Why is it, that in a faculty common 
to all mankind — that of communicating our thoughts and 
feelings, in language and by gestures — the palm is conceded 
to him by the consent of all ages and countries ? His ora- 
tions are not witty, humorous, nor, ordinarily, pathetic nor 
learned — all undeniable attributes of eloquence. Besides, 
he violates nearly every ancient rule of technical rhetoric. 
The secret of his success was this : He was an honest man ; 
he was a patriot ; his political principles were not assumed 
to serve an interested purpose, to be laid aside when he 
descended the Bema, and resumed when he sought to 
accomplish an object. No, his principles of patriotism were 
deeply seated in his heart, and emanated from its profound- 
est depths. The mystery of his wonderful influence, then, 
lay in his honesty. It is this, joined to his action, that gave 
warmth and tone to his feelings, an energy to his language, 
and an impression to his manner, before which every impu- 
tation of insincerity must have vanished. The chief charac- 
teristics of Demosthenes' oratory were strength, energy, 
and sublimity, aided by an emphatic and vehement elocu- 
tion. Liberty and eloquence, which are twin born and 
which die together, expired in Greece, with their noble 
defender, Demosthenes, and eloquence relapsed again into 
the feeble manner introduced by the sophists. 

Demetrius Phalereus, who lived in the next age to Demos- 



OR A TOR Y IN GREECE. 



23 



thenes, attained some reputation as a speaker, but his chief 
attraction as an orator was his highly ornamented diction. 
He was not a convincing speaker, aiming as he did at grace 
rather than substance. Cicero says : " He amused the 
Athenians, rather than warmed them." 

We hear no more of Grecian orators of note after his 
time. 




CHAPTER II. 

ORATORY IN ROME. 

HAVING treated of the rise of eloquence, and of its 
state among the Greeks, the author will now pro- 
ceed to notice its progress among the Romans. Here 
one model, at least, of eloquence, in its most dazzling and 
illustrious form, will be found. 

The Romans derived their eloquence, poetry, and learning, 
chiefly from the Greeks. For a considerable period after 
the founding of Rome, the Romans were a rude, compara- 
tively illiterate, and martial people, almost entirely unskilled 
in the polite arts, which were not much cultivated until 
after the conquest of Greece. In eloquence, it is thought, 
the Romans were inferior to the Greeks, in some respects. 
They were certainly more grave and magnificent, but less 
acute and spritely. Compared to the Greeks the Romans 
were a phlegmatic nation, their passions were not so easily 
moved, and their conceptions were not so lively. But after 
the introduction of Greek learning at Rome, eloquence, of 
all the arts next to war, was of most importance. For if 
war led to the conquests of foreign states, eloquence opened 
to each individual a path to dominion and empire over the 
minds and hearts of his countrymen. It was the opinion of 
Cicero that without this art wisdom itself could be of little 
avail for the advantage or glory of the commonwealth. 

There was little room for the exercise of legal oratory 
during the existence of the monarchy, and in the early ages 
of the republic, because law proceedings were not numerous. 

24 



ORATORY IX ROME. 2$ 



Civil suits were prevented to a great extent by the absolute 
dominion which a Roman father exercised over his family, 
and the severity of the decemviral laws, in which all the 
proceedings were extreme, frequently forced parties into 
an accommodation. At the same time, the purity of ancient 
manners, had not yet given rise to those criminal questions 
of bribery, extortion, and peculation at home or of oppres- 
sion in the provinces, which disgraced the closing periods of 
the commonwealth, and furnished fruitful themes for the 
indignant oratory of Cicero and Hortensius. Consequently 
whatever eloquence may have been cultivated in the early 
ages of Rome was of a political character, and was exerted 
on affairs of state. 

It must not be supposed, however, from what has been 
said, that there were no orators of eminence in Rome before 
the age of Hortensius and Cicero. From the earliest times 
of the republic the oratorical abilities of Junius Brutus, Pub- 
iicola, and Appius Claudius were called into requisition for 
the purpose of allaying seditions, suppressing rebellions, and 
thwarting pernicious counsels. Romulus, by direction of 
his grandfather, made a speech to the people soon after the 
completion of the city, on the subject of the government to 
be established. This speech is given in Dionysius of Hali- 
carnassus (Lib. II.). 

Although many speeches are reported by Dionysius and 
Livy, no adequate opinion can be formed of their oratorical 
merits, for the reason that they were probably composed by 
these historians and adorned by them with all the arts of 
rhetoric. Judging, however, from the effect which the 
speeches of these orators in the early ages of Rome pro- 
duced, they must have possessed a masculine vigour well 
calculated to protect the interests of the state, and to ani- 
mate the courage of the Roman soldiery. But " a nation 
of outlaws, destined from their cradle to the profession of 
arms, — taught only to hurl the spear and the javelin, and 
inure their bodies to other martial exercises, — with souls 
breathing only conquest, — and regarded as the enemies of 
every state till they had become its masters, could have 



26 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



possessed but few topics of illustration or embellishment, 
and were not likely to cultivate any species of rhetorical 
refinement. To convince by solid arguments when their 
cause was good, and to fill their fellow-citizens with passions 
corresponding to those with which they were themselves 
animated, would be the great objects of an eloquence sup- 
plied by nature and unimproved by study. We are accord- 
ingly informed by some of the ancient writers " that though 
there appeared in the ancient orations some traces of original 
genius, and much force of argument, they bear in their 
rugged and unpolished periods the signs of the times in 
which they were delivered." 

The speech of Appius Claudius in opposition to a peace 
with Pyrrhus, is the only one mentioned by the Latin 
writers as possessing the charms of oratory, prior to the 
time of Cornelius Cethegus, who lived during the second 
Punic war, and was consul about the year 550. Cethegus 
was particularly distinguished for his " admirable sweetness 
of elocution and powers of persuasion." 

The speeches of Cato the Censor were chiefly noted for 
their patriotism and their rude but masculine eloquence. It 
is said that when Cato was in the decline of life " a more 
rich and copious mode of speaking at length began to pre- 
vail. S. Galba, by the warmth and animation of his delivery, 
eclipsed Cato and all his contemporaries. He was the first 
among the Romans who displayed the distinguishing talents 
of an orator, by embellishing his subject, by digressing, am- 
plifying, entreating, and employing what are called topics, 
or commonplaces of discourse. On one occasion, while 
defending himself against a grave accusation, he melted his 
judges to compassion by producing an orphan relative, 
whose father had been a favourite of the people. When his 
orations, however, were afterwards reduced to writing, their 
fire appeared extinguished, and they preserved none of that 
lustre with which his discourses are said to have shone 
when given forth by the living orator. Cicero accounts for 
this from his want of sufficient study and art in composi- 
tion. While his mind was occupied and warmed with his 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 27 



subject, his language was bold and rapid ; but when he took 
up the pen his emotion ceased, and the periods fell languid 
from its point, "which," continues he, "never happened to 
those who, having cultivated a more studied and polished 
style of oratory, wrote as they spoke. Hence the mind of 
Laelius yet breathes in his writings, though the force of 
Galba has failed." 

Galba, however, was highly esteemed by the judges, the 
people, and Laelius himself, as appears from the following 
anecdote : " Laelius being entrusted with the defence of 
certain persons suspected of having committed a murder 
in the Sicilian forest, spoke for two days, correctly, elo- 
quently, and with the approbation of all, after which the 
consuls deferred judgment. He then recommended the 
accused to carry their cause to Galba, as it would be 
defended by him with more heat and vehemence. Galba, 
in consequence, delivered a most forcible and pathetic ha- 
rangue, and after it was finished, his clients were absolved 
as if by acclamation." 

Cicero compares Laelius with his friend Scipio Africanus, 
in whose presence this question concerning the Sicilian mur- 
der was debated. They were almost equally distinguished 
for their eloquence ; and they were like each other in this 
respect, that they both always delivered themselves in a 
smooth manner, and never, like Galba, "exerted themselves 
with loudness of speech or violence of gesture." Their style 
of oratory, however was unlike, — Laelius adopting a much 
more ancient phraseology than that adopted by his friend. 
Cicero was most inclined to admire the oratory of Scipio, 
but his contemporaries awarded the palm of eloquence to 
Laelius. 

The introduction of Greek learning about this time pro- 
duced the same improvement in oratory that it had effected 
in every branch of literature. 

M. Emilius Lepidus was younger than Galba or Scipio, 
and was consul in 617 A.U.C. His orations were extant in 
Cicero's time. It is said that he was the first Roman orator 
who, in imitation of the Greeks, gave sweetness and har- 



28 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



mony to his periods, or " the graces of a style regularly 
polished and improved by art." 

Cicero mentions many other orators of the same age with 
Lepidus, and gives a minute account of their different styles 
of oratory. Among them are the most prominent men of 
the period, as Scipio Nasica, Emilius Paulus, and Mucius 
Scsevola. 

The political situation' of Rome, consequent upon the 
disputes which continually arose between the patricians 
and the plebeians ; the frequent impeachment of corrupt 
officials ; the inquietude and unrest which succeeded its 
foreign wars ; the debates concerning agrarian laws, afforded 
ample room for the display of forensic and political oratory. 

Oratory continued to open the most direct path to digni- 
ties during the whole period prior to the breaking out of the 
civil wars, when her sweet voice was drowned by the horrid 
din of war. 

The Gracchi were factious demagogues who endeavoured 
to inflame the passions of the poor against the rich. Instead 
of pointing out to the rich the good qualities and the dire 
necessities of the poor, and of calling the attention of the 
poor to the many admirable qualities of the rich, they made 
the vices of the rich the constant themes of their most im- 
passioned declamations. But, notwithstanding their dema- 
gogical character, the influence which the celebrated brothers 
exerted over the people is a sufficient proof of their 
eloquence. 

Tiberius Gracchus made oratory a serious study. He was 
instructed in elocution, in his boyhood, by his mother Cor- 
nelia. He was also constant in his attendance upon the 
ablest masters from Greece. When he entered on the tur- 
bulent stage of Roman life, the land was owned by a few 
people, and the middle classes which constituted the strength 
of the ancient republic, were gradually rooted out. Tiberius 
Gracchus while passing through Etruria on his way to 
Numantia found the country almost depopulated of free- 
men, and at that time formed the project of agrarian law. 
While much in his political conduct is worthy of condemna- 



ORATORY IN ROME. 2Q 



tion, he was undoubtedly eloquent, as the following speci- 
men from Plutarch will show : " The wild beasts of Italy 
have their dens to retire to — their places of refuge and re- 
pose ; while the brave men who shed their blood in the cause 
of their country have nothing left but fresh air and sun- 
shine. Without houses, without settled habitations, they 
wander from place to place with their wives and children ; 
and their commanders do but mock them when, at the head 
of their armies, they exhort their soldiers to fight for their 
sepulchres and altars. For, among such numbers, there is 
not one Roman which belonged to his ancestors, or a tomb 
in which their ashes repose. The private soldiers fight and 
die to increase the wealth and luxury of the great ; and they 
are styled sovereigns of the world, while they have not one 
foot of ground they can call their own." The violent course 
pursued by Tiberius Gracchus caused his death. 

Caius Gracchus was endowed with greater ability than his 
brother, but unfortunately he pursued the same course, that 
of endeavouring to widen the breach between the senate and 
the people* He was untiring in his exertions to lessen the 
authority of the senate, and increase the authority of the 
people. He advocated the colonisation of the public lands, 
and their distribution among the poor ; the regulation of 
the markets, so as to diminish the price of bread, and for 
vesting the judicial power in the knights. 

Though much alike in character, and in their political 
conduct, there was a considerable difference between the 
forensic demeanour and style of oratory of the two brothers. 
" Tiberius, in his looks and gesture, was mild and composed, 
Caius earnest and vehement ; so that when they spoke 
in public Tiberius had the utmost moderation in his action 
and moved not from his place ; whereas Caius was the first 
of the Romans who, in addressing the people, walked to 
and fro in the rostrum, threw his gown off his shoulder, 
smote his thigh, and exposed his arm bare. The language 
of Tiberius was laboured and accurate, that of Caius bold 
and figurative. The oratory of the former was of a gentle 
kind, and pity was the emotion it chiefly raised — that of 



30 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



the latter was strongly impassioned, and calculated to excite 
terror. In speaking, indeed, Caius was so often hurried 
away by the violence of his passion that he exalted his 
voice above the regular pitch, indulged in abusive expres- 
sions, and disordered the whole tenor of his oration. In 
order to guard against such excesses, he stationed a slave 
behind him with an ivory flute, which was modulated so as 
to lead him to lower or heighten the tone of his voice, ac- 
cording as the subject required a higher or a softer key. 
Says Cicero, " The flute you may as well leave at home, but 
the meaning of the practice you must remember at the 
bar." 

Oratory became an object of assiduous study in the time 
of the Gracchi. The custom was to introduce a young, man 
intended for the study of the law to one of the most distin- 
guished orators of the city, whom he attended when he had 
occasion to speak on a public or private cause, or in the 
assemblies of the people. In doing this, he not only heard 
him, but every other noted speaker. By pursuing this 
course he became practically acquainted with business, and 
the method of administering justice in the courts, and 
learned the arts of oratorical conflict, as it were, in the field 
of battle. " It animated the courage and quickened the 
judgment of youth, thus to receive their instructions in the 
eye of the world, and in the midst of affairs, where no one 
could advance an absurd or weak argument without being 
exposed by his adversary, and despised by the audience. 
Hence, they also had an opportunity of acquainting them- 
selves with the various sentiments of the people, and ob- 
serving what pleased or disgusted them in the several orators 
of the Forum. By these means they were furnished with 
an instructor of the best and the most improving kind, ex- 
hibiting not the feigned resemblance of eloquence, but her 
real and lively manifestation — not a pretended but genuine 
adversary, armed in earnest for the combat — an audience 
ever full and ever new, composed of foes as well as of friends, 
and amongst whom not a single expression could fall but 
was either censured or applauded." 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 3 1 



The advantages derived from fictitious oratorical contests 
were also given to the youth of the city by the introduction 
of debating societies at Rome about the middle of its seventh 
century. In the year 661 A.U.C., Plotius Gallus, a Latin 
rhetorician, opened a declaiming school at Rome, but the 
declamations turned on questions of real business. 

From these facts it is evident that in the middle of the 
seventh century oratory was sedulously studied, and univer- 
sally practised, and that there must have been many profi- 
cients. It would be an endless task to enumerate all the public 
speakers mentioned by Cicero, the extensiveness of whose cat- 
alogue is only equalled by its dryness. The author will 
therefore proceed to Marcus Antonius and Lucius Crassus, 
whom Cicero celebrates as having first raised the glory of 
Roman eloquence to an equality with that of Greece. 

Marcus Antonius was the grandfather of the famous 
triumvir. He was the most popular orator of his time, and 
was chiefly courted by clients because of his ability, and the 
fact that he was always ready to undertake any cause which 
was offered to him. It is said that he possessed a ready 
memory and remarkable talent of introducing everything 
where it could be placed with most effect. " He had a frank- 
ness of manner which precluded any suspicion of artifice, 
and gave to all his orations an appearance of being the un- 
premeditated effusions of an honest heart. But though 
there was no apparent preparation in his speeches, he always 
spoke so well, that the judges were never sufficiently pre- 
pared against the effects of his eloquence. His language 
was not perfectly pure, or of a constantly sustained ele- 
gance, but it was of a solid and judicious character, well 
adapted to his purpose ; his gesture, too, was appropriate 
and suited to his sentiments and language ; his voice was 
strong and durable, though naturally hoarse — but even this 
defect he turned to advantage, by frequently and easily 
adopting a mournful and querulous tone, which in criminal 
questions excited compassion, and more readily gained the 
belief of the judges." 

According to Cicero he left very few orations behind him, 



32 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



having determined never to publish any of his pleadings, 
lest he should be found to have maintained in one cause 
something which was inconsistent with what he had alleged 
in another. Cicero gives an account of Antony's defence of 
Aquilius which shows his power of moving the passions, 
and is also characteristic of the manner of Roman plead- 
ing. In the dialogue De Oratore, Antony, who is one of 
the characters, is introduced relating it himself. " Seeing 
his client, who had once been consul and a leader of armies 
reduced to a state of the utmost dejection and peril, he had 
no sooner begun to speak, with a view towards melting the 
compassion of others, than he was melted himself. Per- 
ceiving the emotion of the judges when he raised his client 
from the earth, on which he had thrown himself, he instantly 
took advantage of this favorable feeling. He tore open the 
garments of Aquilius, and showed the scars of those wounds 
which he had received in the service of his country. Even 
the stern Marius wept. Him the orator then apostrophized, 
imploring his protection, and invoking with many tears the 
gods, the citizens, and the allies of Rome. ' But whatever 
I could have said,' remarks he in the dialogue, i had I 
delivered it without being myself moved, it would have ex- 
cited the derision, instead of the sympathy, of those who 
heard me.' " 

Marius who was his enemy, in 666, had Antony's head cut 
off and affixed to the rostrum where he had defended the 
lives of so many of his fellow-citizens. 

The greatest forensic rival of Antony, was Crassus, who 
had prepared himself diligently in his youth for public speak- 
ing by the study of oratory. He translated into Latin some 
of the best of the Greek orations, and he at the same time 
improved his voice, action, and memory by frequent 
exercises. 

Crassus began his oratorical career at nineteen, when he 
acquired considerable reputation by his accusation of C. 
Carbo. Not long afterward he heightened his fame by his 
defence of Licinia. 

The best speech which he delivered, however, and the 



ORATORY IN ROME. 33 



one that caused his death, which occurred in 662, he made 
in the senate against the Consul Philippus, who had de- 
clared, in one of the assemblies of the people, that some 
other advice must be resorted to, since he could no longer 
direct the affairs of the government with such a senate as 
then existed. Crassus arraigned the conduct of this consul 
in terms of the most glowing eloquence, alleging that, in- 
stead of acting as the guardian of the rights of the Senate, 
he sought to strip its members of their ancient inheritance 
of respect and dignity. It is said he was so greatly irritated 
by an attempt on the part of Philippus to compel him to 
comply with his demands, that he exerted, on this occa- 
sion, the utmost efforts of his genius and strength ; unfor- 
tunately, however, he returned home with a pleuritic fever, 
of which he died within seven days. 

This oration of Crassus, followed as it was by his untimely 
death, made a deep and lasting impression on his country- 
men, who long afterwards were accustomed to repair to the 
Senate-house, for the purpose of looking at the spot where 
he last stood and had fallen, virtually in defence of the 
privileges of his order. 

Crassus left very few orations behind him. Cicero was in 
his boyhood when he died, and having collected the opinions 
of those who had heard him, speaks with a minute and per- 
fect intelligence of his style of oratory. 

His diction was perhaps more highly ornamented than 
that of any speaker that had appeared before his time in 
the Forum. 

He was grave, dignified, and forcible, but these qualities 
were happily blended with the utmost politeness, urbanity, 
ease, and gaiety. His language was pure and accurate, and 
he expressed himself with the greatest elegance. 

Clearness and copiousness of argument and illustration 
were the chief excellences for which his orations were dis- 
tinguished. 

He was diffident in manner while speaking, and was so 
much embarrassed on one occasion, when a young man, 
that Q. Maximus, seeing that he was disabled by confu- 



34 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



sion and in danger of making an utter failure, adjourned the 
court. Crassus always remembered his kindness with the 
highest sense of gratitude. Cicero says that this diffidence 
never entirely forsook him, and after the practice of a long 
life at the bar he was frequently so much agitated in the 
exordium of his discourse that he was observed to grow pale, 
and tremble in every part of his frame. It is said that 
'* some persons considered Crassus as only equal to Antony * 
others preferred him as the most perfect and accomplished 
orator. Antony chiefly trusted to his intimate acquaintance 
with affairs and ordinary life. He was not, however, so 
destitute of knowledge as he seemed ; but he thought the 
best way to recommend his eloquence to the people was to 
appear as if he had never learned anything. Crassus, on the 
other hand, was well instructed in literature, and showed off 
his information to the best advantage. Antony possessed 
the greater power of promoting conjecture, and of allaying 
or exciting suspicion, by apposite and well-timed insinua- 
tions ; but no one could have more copiousness or facility 
than Crassus in defining, interpreting, and discussing the 
principles of equity. The language of Crassus was indis- 
putably preferable to that of Antony ; but the action and 
gesture of Antony were as incontestably superior to those 
of Crassus. 

Sulpicius and Cotta were born about 630 A.U.C. They 
were for some time contemporaries of Antony and Crassus, 
but were younger orators. They had, however, achieved 
considerable reputation before the death' of the latter and 
assassination of the former. For some years Sulpicius was 
respected and admired, but about the year 665, being then 
a tribune, he espoused the cause of Marius, at the first 
breaking out of the dissensions between Sylla and Marius. 
At this time, it may be safely said that he became one of 
the greatest villains in Rome, although that city could boast 
of a large assortment of villains at this conjuncture. Cruel 
and avaricious, he committed, without hesitation or reluc- 
tance, the most criminal actions. It is said that he sold by 
public auction the freedom of Rome to foreigners, telling 



ORATORY IN ROME. 35 



out the purchase money on counters erected in the Forum 
for that purpose. He kept three thousand swordsmen about 
him in constant pay, ready on any occasion to do his bid- 
dine, and these he called his anti-senatorian band. While 
Marius was in power, Sulpicius, as tribune, transacted 
all public affairs by violence and force of arms. He decreed 
to Marius the command, in the Mithridatic war. With his 
band he attacked the consuls while they were holding an 
assembly of the people in the temple of Castor and Pollux, 
and deposed one of them. Sylla, however, having at length 
gained the ascendency, Marius was expelled and Sulpicius 
was seized and put to death in the bloom of his youth and 
beauty, justly punished for the many crimes which he had 
committed. Notwithstanding his villainy he was endowed 
with great oratoric powers. It is said that he was the most 
lofty, and what Cicero called the most tragic, orator of 
Rome ; that " his attitudes, deportment, and figure were of 
supreme dignity ; his voice was powerful and sonorous ; his 
elocution rapid ; his action variable and animated. 

Cotta, being constitutionally weak, was not vehement in 
manner, but soft and relaxed. Everything he said, how- 
ever, was in good taste, and he often led the judges to the 
same conclusion to which Sulpicius impelled them. Says 
Cicero : " No two things were ever more unlike than they 
are to each other. The one, in a polite, delicate manner, 
sets forth his subject in well-chosen expressions. He still 
keeps to the point ; and as he sees with the greatest penetra- 
tion what he has to prove to the court, he directs to that 
the whole strength of his reasoning and eloquence, without 
regarding other arguments. But Sulpicius, endowed w 7 ith 
irresistible energy, with a full, strong voice, with the greatest 
vehemence and dignity of action, accompanied with so much 
weight and variety of expression, seemed, of all mankind, 
the best fitted by nature for eloquence." 

The renown, however, of all preceding orators at Rome 
was eclipsed by Hortensius, who " burst forth in eloquence 
at once calculated to delight and astonish his fellow-citizens." 
This famous orator was born in the year 640, and was ten 



2,6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



years younger than Cotta and Sulpicius. At the early age 
of nineteen he made his first appearance in the Forum, and 
Cicero, his rival, but his just and impartial critic, says : " His 
excellence was immediately acknowledged, like that of a 
statue by Phidias, which only requires to be seen in order 
to be admired." 

The case in which he first appeared was one of consider- 
able importance, being an accusation at the instance of the 
Roman province of Africa against its governors for rapacity. 
It was heard before Scaevola and Crassus, as judges — the 
former being the ablest lawyer, and the latter the most 
accomplished speaker, of his age. The young orator had 
the good fortune to win not only their approbation but 
that of every one present at the trial. For many years 
he was the greatest forensic orator at Rome, and was the 
acknowledged head of the Roman bar. Cicero says : " Na- 
ture had given him so happy a memory that he never had 
need of committing to writing any discourse which he had 
meditated, while, after his opponent had finished speaking, 
he could recall, word by word, not only what the other had 
said, but also the authorities which had been cited against 
himself." As a proof of his excellent memory, Seneca says 
that, for a trial of it, he remained a whole day at a public 
auction, and when it was concluded, he repeated in order 
what had been so/d, to whom, and at what price. His state- 
ment was compared with the clerk's account, and his memory 
w T as found to have served him faithfully in every particular. 
Cicero also says of him : " His industry was indefatigable. 
He never let a day pass without speaking in the forum, or 
preparing himself to appear on the morrow ; oftentimes he 
did both. He excelled particularly in the art of dividing 
his subject, and in then reuniting it in a luminous manner, 
calling in, at the same time, even some of the arguments 
which had been used against him. His diction was elegant, 
noble, and rich ; his voice was strong and pleasing ; his ges- 
tures carefully studied." 

The elegance and aptitude for public business of Horten- 
sius procured for him not only a fortune, but the highest 



ORATORY IN ROME. 7>7 



official honours of the state. Want of competition, and the 
formation of luxurious habits, however, caused him gradu- 
ally to relax that assiduity which had contributed so largely 
to his success. The growing fame of Cicero, however, stimu- 
lated him to renew his exertions. He never, however, re- 
covered his former reputation. Cicero partly accounts for 
this decline from the peculiar nature and genius of his ora- 
tory. His oratory was Asiatic in character, being full of 
brilliant thought and sparkling expressions, and was much 
more florid and ornamental than that of Cicero himself. 

This glowing style of oratory, though lacking in deficiency 
and weight, was not unsuitable in a young man, and being 
further recommended by a beautiful cadence, met with the 
greatest applause. Hortensius, as he advanced in years, re- 
tained the florid style of oratory which he had acquired in 
his youth. The grave fathers of the senatorial order thought 
his glittering phraseology totally inconsistent with his ad- 
vanced age and consular dignity, consequently his reputation 
diminished with increase of years. 

The orations of Hortensius, it has been said, suffered 
much when transferred to paper, as his chief excellence 
consisted in delivery. 

As the speeches of Hortensius have not been preserved, 
his oratorical character rests almost entirely upon the opin- 
ion of his great, but unprejudiced rival, Cicero. The friend- 
ship and friendly rivalry of Hortensius and Cicero presents 
an agreeable contrast to the bitter enmity of ^Eschines and 
Demosthenes. Hortensius also was free from any feeling of 
that envy which is such an infallible mark of an ignoble 
mind. Cicero has certainly done the oratorical talents of 
Hortensius ample justice, representing him as endowed with 
nearly all the qualities necessary to form a great orator, as 
has been said. Macrobius, however, says that, on account of 
his affected gestures, he was much ridiculed by some of his 
contemporaries. His adversaries accused him of being too 
theatrical in his gestures. It seems that in pleading it was 
his custom to keep his hands almost constantly in motion. 
Roscius, the celebrated Roman actor, often attended his 



38 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

pleadings to catch his gestures and imitate them on the 
stage. According to Valerius Maximus, his exertion in ac- 
tion was so great that it was commonly said that it could not 
be determined whether people went to hear or to see him. 
Like Demosthenes, he chose and put on his dress with the 
most studied care and neatness. He also is said to have 
bathed himself in odoriferous waters, and to have daily per- 
fumed himself with the most precious essences. The only 
blemishes in his oratorical character appear to have been 
this minute attention to his person and his gesticulation. 
His moral conduct was not free from blame, because of his 
practice of sometimes corrupting the judges of the causes in 
which he appeared, when he could do so with impunity — un- 
fortunately, in his time, there were many defects in the judi- 
cial system of Rome, and corruption of the courts was one 
of the greatest evils of the age. 

It would be unfair to omit all mention of Hortensia, the 
daughter of Hortensius, for she inherited something of the 
spirit and eloquence of her father, and Valerius Maximus 
tells us that when the triumvirs Octavius, Lepidus, and 
Antony had imposed a tax upon the Roman matrons, and 
the advocates of the day were too cowardly to accept the 
perilous task of speaking on their behalf against the ob- 
noxious law, Hortensia came forward as the champion of 
her sex, and made such an eloquent and effective speech 
that the greatest part of the tax was remitted. Quintillian 
says of Hortensia that her speech was well worthy of perusal 
without taking into account the sex of the speaker. 

Mention ought also to be made of another Roman lady, 
Amaesia Sentia, who appeared in her own behalf in an action 
which had been brought against her. Attracted by the nov- 
elty of the spectacle, an immense crowd had gathered in 
court to hear her. She pleaded her cause with such eloquence 
that she received at once an almost unanimous judgment in 
her favour. 

Afrania, the wife of Licinius Buccio, a Senator, sometimes 
pleaded her own causes in person out of sheer impudence. 
She was a quarrelsome and litigious dame, and was perpetu- 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 39 



ally getting into legal scrapes. Her voice was so harsh and 
unmusical that it was compared to the yelp of a dog. After 
a while at Rome to be called an Afrania was a reproach 
amongst the women of the city. 

Licinius Calvus was considered as the rival of Horten- 
sius in eloquence, but his style of speaking was the re- 
verse of that of Hortensius. The orations of Lysias were 
his models. " Hence that correct and slender delicacy at 
which he so studiously aimed, and which he conducted 
with great skill and elegance ; but, from being too much 
afraid of the faults of redundance and unsuitable orna- 
ment, he refined and attenuated his discourse till it lost 
its raciness and spirit. He compensated, however, for 
his sterility of language and diminutive figure, by his 
force of elocution and vivacity of action." Says Quintil- 
lian : " I have met with persons who preferred Calvus to 
all our orators ; and others who were of opinion that the 
too great rigor which he exercised on himself, in point of 
precision, had debilitated his oratorical talents. Neverthe- 
less, his speeches, though chaste, grave, and correct, are 
frequently also vehement. His taste of writing was Attic ; 
and his untimely death was an injury to his reputation, if 
he designed to add to his compositions, and not to retrench 
them. He delivered his most noted oration against Votinius 
when he was twenty years of age. Votinius, overpowered 
and alarmed, interrupted him by exclaiming to the judges: 
" Must I be condemned because he is eloquent ? " 

Calvus died at the early age of thirty. He left behind 
him twenty-one books of orations. Pliny, the younger, 
made these orations his models. 

Calidius merits a short notice. He is said to have been 
different from all other orators — chiefly on account of " the 
soft and polished language in which he arrayed his exqui- 
sitely delicate sentiments." 

" Nothing could be more easy, pliable, and ductile than 
the turn of his periods ; his words flowed like a pure and 
limpid stream, without anything hard or muddy to impede 
or pollute their course ; his action was genteel, his mode of 



40 HISTGRY OF ORATORY. 



address sober and calm, his arrangement the perfection of 
art. Cicero says, while discussing the merits of Calidius : 
' The three great objects of an orator are to instruct, de- 
light, and move/ Two of these he admirably accomplished. 
He rendered the most abstruse subject clear by illustration,, 
and enchained the minds of his hearers with delight. But 
the third praise of moving and exciting the soul must be 
denied him ; he had no force, pathos, or animation." 

These were the greatest orators who preceded Cicero, or 
who were contemporaries with him. It is said that at 
Rome, in the time of Cicero, " the organisation of the judi- 
cial tribunals was wretched, and their practice scandalous. 
The Senate, Praetors, and Comitia, all partook of the legis- 
lative and judicial power, and had a sort of reciprocal right 
of opposition and reversal, which they exercised to gratify 
their avarice or prejudices, and not with any view to the 
ends of justice. But however injurious this system might 
be to those who had claims to urge, or rights to defend, it 
afforded the most ample fields for the excursions of elo- 
quence. The Praetors, though the supreme judges, were 
not men bred to the law, advanced in years, familiarised 
with precedents, secure of independence, and fixed in their 
stations for life. They were young men of little experience, 
who held the office for a season, and proceeded, through it, 
to what were considered as the most important situations 
of the republic. Though their procedure was strict in some 
trivial points of preliminary form, devised by the ancient 
jurisconsults, they enjoyed in more essential matters a 
perilous latitude. On the dangerous pretext of equity, they 
eluded the law by various subtilties or fictions ; and thus, 
without being endued with legislative authority, they abro- 
gated ancient enactments according to caprice. It was worse, 
when, 'in civil cases, the powers of the Praetors were intrusted 
to the judges ; or when, in criminal trials, the jurisdiction was 
assumed by the whole people. The inexperience, ignorance, 
and popular prejudices of those who were to decide them, 
rendered litigations extremely uncertain, and dependent, not 
on any fixed law or principle, but on the opinions or pas- 



ORATORY IN ROME. 41 



sions of tumultuary judges, which were to be influenced and 
moved by the arts of oratory. This furnished ample scope 
for displaying all that interesting and various eloquence 
with which the pleadings of the ancient orators abounded. 
The means to be employed for success were conciliating 
favour, rousing attention, removing or fomenting prejudice, 
but, above all, exciting compassion. Hence we find that, in 
the defence of a criminal, while a law or precedent w r as 
seldom mentioned, everything was introduced which could 
serve to gain the favour of the judges or move their pity. 
The accused, as soon as the day of trial was fixed, assumed 
an apparently neglected garb ; and although allowed, what- 
ever was the crime, to go at large till sentence was pro- 
nounced, he usually attended in court surrounded by his 
friends, and sometimes accompanied by his children, in order 
to give a more piteous effect to the lamentations and excla- 
mations of his counsel, when he came to that part of the 
oration in which the fallen and helpless state of his client 
was to be suitably bewailed. Piso, justly accused of op- 
pression toward the allies, having prostrated himself on 
the earth in order to kiss the feet of his judges, and having 
risen with his face defiled with mud, obtained an immediate 
acquittal. Even where the cause was good, it was necessary 
to address, the passions, and to rely on the judge's feelings 
of compassion, rather than on his perceptions of right. 
Rutilius prohibited all exclamations and entreaties to be 
used in his defence. He even forbade the accustomed and 
expected excitement of invocations, and stamping with the 
feet ; and " he was condemned," says Cicero, " though the 
most virtuous of the Romans, because his counsel was com- 
pelled to plead for him as he would have done in the Repub- 
lic of Plato." It thus appears that it was dangerous to trust 
to innocence alone, and that the judges w r ere the capricious 
arbiters of the fate of their fellow-citizens, and not (as their 
situation so urgently required) the inflexible interpreters of 
the laws of their exalted country. 

" But if the manner of treating causes was favourable to the 
exertions of eloquence, much also must be allowed for the 



l^" 



42 HISTORY OF ORATORY 



nature of the questions themselves, especially those of a 
criminal description, tried before the Praetor or people. 
One can scarcely figure more glorious opportunities for the 
display of oratory than were afforded by those complaints 
of the oppressed and plundered provinces against their rapa- 
cious governors. From the extensive ramifications of the 
Roman power, there continually arose numerous cases of a 
description that can rarely occur in other countries, and 
which are unexampled in the history of Britain, except in a 
memorable impeachment, which not merely displayed, but 
created such eloquence as can be called forth only by 
splendid topics, without which rhetorical indignation would 
.seem extravagant, and attempted pathos ridiculous." 

"The spot, too, on which the courts of justice assembled, 
was calculated to heighten and inspire eloquence. The 
Roman Forum presented one of the most splendid spectacles 
that eye could behold, or fancy conceive. This space 
formed an oblong square between the Palatine and Capito- 
line hills, composed of a vast assemblage of sumptuous 
though irregular edifices. On the side next the Palatine Hill 
stood the ancient Senate-house, and Comitium, and Temple 
of Romulus the Founder. On the opposite quarter it was 
bounded by the Capitol, with its ascending range of porti- 
cos, and the temple of the tutelar deity on the summit. The 
other sides of the square were adorned with basilicae, and 
piazzas terminated by triumphal arches ; and were bordered 
with statues, erected to the memory of the ancient heroes or 
preservers of their country. Having been long the theatre 
of the factions, the politics, the intrigues, the crimes, and the 
revolutions of the capital, every spot of its surface was con- 
secrated to the recollection of some great incident in the 
domestic history of the Romans ; while their triumphs over 
foreign enemies were vividly called to remembrance by the 
Rostrum itself, which stood in the centre of the vacant area, 
and by other trophies gained from vanquished nations. 

" A vast variety of shops, stored with a profusion of the 
most costly merchandise, likewise surrounded this heart and 
centre of the world, so that it was the mart for all important 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 43 



commercial transactions. Being thus the emporium of law, 
politics, and trade, it became the resort of men of business, 
as well as of those loiterers whom Horace calls Forenses. 
Each Roman citizen regarding himself as a member of the 
same vast and illustrious family, scrutinised with jealous 
watchfulness the conduct of his rulers, and looked with 
anxious solicitude to the issue of every important cause. In 
all trials of oppression or extortion, the Roman multitude 
took a particular interest, — repairing in such numbers to the 
Forum that even its spacious square was hardly sufficient to 
contain those who were attracted to it by curiosity; and 
who in the course of the trial, were in the habit of express- 
ing their feelings by shouts and acclamations, so that the 
orator was ever surrounded by a crowded and tumultuary 
audience. This numerous assembly, too, while it inspired 
the orator with confidence and animation, after he had 
commenced his harangue, created in prospect that anxiety 
which led to the most careful preparation previous to his 
appearance in public. The apprehension and even trepida- 
tion felt by the greatest speakers at Rome on the approach 
of the day fixed for the hearing of momentous causes, is evi- 
dent from the many passages of the rhetorical works of 
Cicero. The Roman orator thus addressed his judges with 
all the advantages derived both from the earnest study 
of the closet, and the exhilaration imparted to him by 
unrestrained and promiscuous applause. 

" Next to the courts of justice, the great theatre for the 
display of eloquence was the Comitia, or assemblies of the 
people, met to deliberate on the proposal of passing a new 
law, or abrogating an old one. A law was seldom offered 
for consideration but some orator was found to dissuade its 
adoption ; and as in the courts of justice the passions of the 
judges were addressed, so the favourers or opposers of a law 
did not confine themselves to the expediency of the measure, 
but availed themselves of the prejudices of the people, 
alternately confirming their errors, indulging their caprices, 
gratifying their predilections, exciting their jealousies, and 
fomenting their dislikes. Here, more than anywhere, the 



44 HIS TOR Y OF OR A TOR Y. 



many were to be courted by the few — here more than any- 
where, was created that excitement which is most favourable 
to the influence of eloquence, and forms indeed the element 
in which alone it breathes with freedom. 

" Finally the deliberations of the Senate, which was the 
great council of the state, afforded, at least to its members, 
the noblest opportunities for the exertions of eloquence; 
This august and numerous body consisted of individuals who 
had reached a certain age, who were possessed of a certain 
extent of property, who were supposed to be of un- 
blemished reputation, and most of whom had passed through 
the annual magistracies of the state. They were consulted 
upon almost everything that regarded the administration or 
safety of the commonwealth. The power of making war 
and peace, though it ultimately lay with the people assem- 
bled in the Comitia Centuriata, was generally left by them 
entirely to the Senate, who passed a decree of peace or war 
previous to the suffrages of the Comitia. The Senate, too, 
had always reserved to itself the supreme direction and 
superintendence of the religion of the country, and distribu- 
tion of the public revenue — the levying or disbanding troops, 
and fixing the service on which they should be employed — 
the nomination of governors for the provinces — the rewards 
assigned to successful generals for their victories — and the 
guardianship of the state in times of civil dissension. These 
were the great subjects of debate in the Senate, and they 
were discussed on certain fixed days of the year, when its 
members assembled of course, or when they were summoned 
together for any emergency. They invariably met in a tem- 
ple, or other consecrated place, in order to give solemnity to 
their proceedings, as being conducted under the immediate 
eye of Heaven. The Consul, who presided, opened the 
business of the day by a brief exposition of the question 
which was to be considered by the assembly. He then 
asked the opinions of the members in the order of rank and 
seniority. Freedom of debate was allowed in its greatest 
latitude ; for though no Senator was permitted to deliver 
his sentiments till it came to his turn, he had then a right 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 45 



to speak as long as he thought proper, without being in the 
smallest degree confined to the point in question. Some- 
times indeed the Conscript Fathers consulted on the state of 
the commonwealth in general ; but even when summoned to 
deliberate on a particular subject, they seem to have en- 
joyed the privilege of talking about anything else which 
happened to be uppermost in their minds. Thus we find 
that Cicero took the opportunity of delivering his seventh 
Philippic when the Senate was consulted concerning the 
Appian Way, the coinage, and Luperci — subjects which had 
no relation to Antony, against whom he inveighed from one 
end of his oration to the other, without taking the least 
notice of the only points which were referred to the considera- 
tion of the senators. The resolution of the majority was 
expressed in the shape of a decree, which, though not 
properly a law, was entitled to the same reverence on 
the point to which it related ; and, except in matters where 
the interests of the state required concealment, all pains 
were taken to give the utmost publicity to the whole 
proceedings of the Senate. 

The number of the Senate varied, but in the time of 
Cicero it was nearly the same as the British House of Com- 
mons ; but it required a larger number to make a quorum. 
Sometimes there were between four hundred and five 
hundred members present ; but two hundred, at least dur- 
ing certain seasons of the year, formed what was accounted 
a full house. This gave to senatorial eloquence something 
of the spirit and animation created by the presence of a 
popular assembly, while at the same time the deliberative 
majesty of the proceedings required a weight of argument 
and dignity of demeanour unlooked for in the Comitia or 
Forum. Accordingly, the levity, ingenuity, and wit, which 
were there so often crowned with success and applause, were 
considered as misplaced in the Senate, where the consular, 
or praetorian orator, had to prevail by depth of reasoning, 
purity of expression, and an apparent zeal for the public 
good. 

It was the authority of the Senate, with the calm and im- 



46 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



posing aspect of its deliberations, that gave to Latin oratory 
a somewhat different character from the eloquence of Greece, 
to which, in consequence of the Roman spirit of imitation, 
it bore, in many respects, so. close a resemblance. The 
power of the Areopagus, which was originally the most dig- 
nified assembly at Athens, had been retrenched amid the 
democratic innovations of Pericles. From that period, 
everything, even the most important affairs of state, de- 
pended entirely, in the pure democracy of Athens, on the 
opinion, or rather the momentary caprice, of an inconstant 
people, who were fond of pleasure and repose, who were 
easily swayed by novelty, and were confident in their power. 
As their precipitate decisions thus often hung on an instant 
of enthusiasm, the orator required to dart into their bosoms 
those electric sparks of eloquence which inflamed their pas- 
sions, and left no corner of the mind fitted for cool consid- 
eration. It was the business of the speaker to allow them 
no time to recover from the shock, for its force could have 
been spent had they been permitted to occupy themselves 
with the beauties and style of diction. " Applaud not the 
orator," says Demosthenes, at the end of one of his Philip- 
pics, " but do what I have recommended. I cannot save 
you by my words, you must save yourselves by your 
actions." When the people were persuaded, everything was 
accomplished, and their decision was embodied in a sort of 
decree by the orator. The people of Rome, on the other 
hand, were more reflective and moderate, and less vain than 
the Athenians ; nor was the whole authority of the state 
vested in them. There was, on the contrary, an accumula- 
tion of powers, and a complication of different interests to 
be managed. Theoretically, indeed, the sovereignty was in 
the people, but the practical government was entrusted to 
the Senate. As we see from Cicero's third oration, De Lege 
Agraria, the same affairs were often treated at the same 
time in the Senate and on the Rostrum. Hence, in the 
judicial and legislative proceedings, in which, as we have 
seen, the feelings of the judges and prejudices of the vulgar 
were so frequently appealed to, some portion of the sena- 



ORATORY /AT ROME. 47 



torial spirit pervaded and controlled the popular assemblies, 
restrained the impetuosity of decision, and gave to those 
orators of the Forum, or Comitia, who had just spoken, or 
were to speak next day in the Senate, a more grave and 
temperate tone, than if their tongues had never been em- 
ployed but for the purpose of impelling a headlong 
multitude. 

But if the Greeks were a more impetuous and inconstant, 
they were also a more intellectual people than the Romans, 
Literature and refinement were more advanced in the age of 
Pericles than of Pompey. Now, in oratory, a popular au- 
dience must be moved by what corresponds to the feelings 
and taste of the age. With such an intelligent race as the 
Greeks, the orator was obliged to employ the most accurate 
reasoning, and most methodical arrangement of his argu- 
ments. The flowers of rhetoric, unless they grew from the 
stem of his discourse, were little admired. The Romans, on 
the other hand, required the excitation of fancy, of com- 
parison, and metaphors, and rhetorical decoration. Hence, 
the Roman orator was more anxious to seduce the imagina- 
tion than convince the understanding; his discourse was 
adorned with frequent digressions into the fields of morals 
and philanthropy, and he was less studious of precision 
than of ornament. 

On the whole, the circumstances of the Roman constitu- 
tion and judicial procedure appear to have wonderfully con- 
spired to render Cicero an accomplished orator. He was 
born and educated at a period when he must have formed 
the most exalted idea of his country. She had reached the 
height of power, and had not yet sunk into submission or 
servilit}^. " The subjects to be discussed, and characters to 
be canvassed, were thus of the most imposing magnitude, 
and could still be treated with freedom and independence. 
The education, too, which Cicero had received, was highly 
favourable to his improvement." 

If the character of this work required that the author 
should treat of Cicero as a statesman, a philosopher, a 
philanthropist, and as a writer, he would shrink from the 



48 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



attempt, and would feel inclined to imitate the example of 
the Greek artist, who, having chosen as the subject of his 
picture the sacrifice of Iphigenia, employed the resources of 
his art on the other figures of the group, but concealed the 
countenance of Agamemnon in the folds of his robe, and 
left to the imagination to conceive what he dared not ven- 
ture to portray. But the scope of the present sketch is not 
so ambitious. It is not " Cicero as a statesman, saluted by 
the title of Pater Patrice for his successful efforts against the 
enemies of the republic; or as a philosopher, discussing 
amidst the shades of Tusculum the immortality of the soul, 
and inquiring into the principles and grounds of moral 
duty " ; but Cicero as an orator, whom he has to consider. 

Marcus Tullius Cicero was born on the 3d day of January, 
107 B. C, at Arpinum, in ancient times a small town of Lati- 
um, now part of Naples. 

As a child Cicero discovered a great ardour for study, and 
made great progress under his teachers. His thirst for 
knowledge was remarkably great, and his mind was well 
fitted by nature, not only for acquiring, but for retaining in- 
formation upon all subjects. In early life he was very fond 
of the study of poetry, and one of his first teachers was the 
poet Archias, who taught him the art of poetry. From his 
earliest years he is said to have distinguished himself in such 
a remarkable manner among those of his own age, that, 
hearing of his extraordinary genius, the parents of his school- 
fellows came on purpose to the school to be eye-witnesses of 
it, and were delighted with what they saw and heard. 

The Roman youth were allowed to wear the toga virilis, 
or manly gown, at sixteen. As has been said, it was a custom 
at Rome at this time for the relations or friends of a youth, 
when he arrived at the age of sixteen, and was designed 
for the bar,. to put him under the protection of one of the 
most celebrated orators. After this he devoted himself to 
his patron in a particular manner; went to hear him plead, 
consulted him about his studies, and did nothing without 
his advice. He was thus early accustomed, as it were, to 
breathe the air of the bar, which is the best school for a 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 49 



young lawyer, and as he was the disciple of the greatest 
lawyers, and formed on the most finished models, he was 
soon able to imitate them. 

From Scaevola, the famous Roman lawyer, he acquired a 
profound knowledge of the civil law, and the political insti- 
tutions of the Romans. He likewise studied philosophy in 
all its branches, with the greatest assiduity, and it was his 
opinion that it contributed more to making him an orator 
than rhetoric. 

Milo was the most celebrated teacher of eloquence in 
Rome, and under his direction Cicero applied himself with 
the greatest diligence to the study of oratory. He prac- 
tised declamation daily, repeating the finest passages of the 
best poets and orators. He also translated the passages of 
the most eminent Greek orators into Latin — thus enriching 
his own style with choice expressions. Cicero knew that, 
notwithstanding his great natural endowments, he could not 
reach an exalted position in the oratorical world, unless he 
submitted to the severest intellectual discipline and study, 
consequently he was unremitting in his efforts to master the 
art of oratory. 

By giving careful attention to the following passage from 
the writings of Cicero, the reader will understand why Cicero 
distanced all his competitors : 

" Xo person at that time made polite literature his par- 
ticular study, without which there is no perfect eloquence ; 
no one studied philosophy thoroughly, which alone teaches 
us at one and the same time, to live and speak well ; no one 
learned the civil law, which is absolutely necessary for an 
orator, to enable him to plead well in private causes, and 
form a true judgment of public affairs ; there was no. person 
well skilled in the Roman history, or able to make proper 
use of it in pleading; no one could raise a cheerfulness in 
the judges, and unruffle them, as it were, by seasonable rail- 
leries, after having vigorously pushed his adversary, by the 
strength and solidity of his arguments ; no one had the art 
of transferring or converting the circumstance of a private 
affair into a common or general one ; no person could some- 



50 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



times depart from his subject by prudent digressions, to 
throw in the agreeable into his discourse ; in fine, no person 
could incline the judges sometimes to anger, sometimes to 
compassion, and inspire them with whatever sentiments he 
pleased, wherein, however, the principal merit of an orator 
consists." 

Cicero began to plead when he was about twenty-six 
years of age. He was prevented by the troubles of the 
state from attempting it sooner. At the age of twenty- 
seven he undertook his first important case, the defence of 
S. Roscius in a criminal prosecution. His speech, especially 
that portion of it relating to the punishment of parricides, 
which consisted in throwing the criminal, tied up in a sack, 
into a river, gained him great applause, but was condemned 
by the severer taste of his more advanced years. The pas- 
sage mentioned is as follows : " Its intention was to strike 
the parricide at once out of the system of nature, by de- 
priving him 'of air, light, water, and earth, so that he who 
had destroyed the author of his existence, might be excluded 
from those elements whence all things derived their being. 
He was not thrown to wild beasts, lest their ferocity should 
be augmented by the contagion of such guilt — he was not 
committed naked to the stream, lest he should contaminate 
that sea which washed away all other pollutions. Every- 
thing in nature, however common, was accounted too good 
for him to share in ; for what is so common as air to the 
living, earth to the dead, the sea to those who float, the 
shore to those who are cast up. But the parricide lives so 
as not to breathe the air of heaven, dies so that the earth 
cannot receive his bones, is tossed by the waves so as not 
to be washed by them, so cast on the shore as to find no 
rest on its rocks." 

Not only was his eloquence worthy of the commendation 
of his countrymen, but the courage which he exhibited as 
well. He was the only advocate who dared to brave the 
anger of Chrysogonus, the favorite of Sylla, the dictator, 
whose power in the commonwealth was at that time prac- 
tically unlimited. Cicero was triumphant, and procured the 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 5 I 



acquittal of his client. In the management of the case, he 
is said to have displayed the loftiest eloquence, which was 
received with shouts of applause by the audience. The suc- 
cessful defence of Roscius firmly established the reputation 
of Cicero as an orator, and placed him in the first class of 
advocates. 

Shortly after the trial of Roscius, Cicero set out upon a 
tour to Greece and Asia Minor. He spent two years in 
these two countries in the study of philosophy and oratory, 
under the best philosophers and rhetoricians. He returned 
to Rome at the age of thirty, with his' mind enriched with 
the treasures of Grecian literature, and with his style of elo- 
quence polished and perfected. 

The following remarks of a judicious critic upon the style 
of Cicero's oratory will be found interesting and instructive 
to the student of eloquence : " The object in this period 
most worthy to draw our attention, is Cicero himself ; whose 
name alone suggests everything that is splendid. in oratory. 
With the history of his life and with his character, as a man 
and a politician, we have not at present any direct concern. 
We consider him only as an eloquent speaker; and, in this 
view, it is our business to remark both his virtues, and his 
defects, if he has any. His virtues are, beyond controversy, 
eminently great. In all his orations there is high art. He 
begins, generally, with a regular exordium ; and with much 
preparation and insinuation prepossesses the hearers and 
studies to gain their affections. His method is clear, and 
his arguments are arranged with great propriety. His 
method is indeed more clear than that of Demosthenes ; and 
this is one advantage which he has over him. We find 
every thing in its proper place ; he never attempts to move 
till he has endeavoured to convince : and in moving, espe- 
cially the softer passions, he is very successful. No man, that 
ever wrote, knew the power and force of words better than 
Cicero. He rolls them along with the greatest beauty and 
pomp ; and in the structure of his sentences, is curious and 
exact to the highest degree. He is always full and flowing, 
never abrupt. He is a great amplifier of every subject ; 



52 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



magnificent, and in his sentiments highly moral. His man- 
ner is on the whole diffuse, yet it is often happily varied, 
and suited to the subject. In his four orations, for instance, 
against Catiline, the tone and style of each of them, particu- 
larly the first and last, is very different, and accommodated 
with a great deal of judgment to the occasion and the situa- 
tion in which they were spoken. When a great public ob- 
ject roused his mind, and demanded indignation and force, 
he departs considerably from that loose and declamatory 
manner to which he inclines at other times, and becomes 
exceedingly cogent and vehement. This is the case in his 
orations against Antony, and in those too against Verres 
and Catiline." 

That he had defects there can be no question. It is said 
that : "Together with those high qualities which Cicero pos- 
sesses, he is not exempt from certain defects, of which it is 
necessary to take notice. For the Ciceronian eloquence is 
a pattern so dazzling by its beauties, that, if not examined 
with accuracy and judgment, it is apt to betray the unwary 
into a faulty imitation ; and I am of opinion that it has 
sometimes produced this effect. In most of his orations, 
especially those composed in the early part of his life, there 
is too much art ; even carried the length of ostentation. 
There is too visible a parade of eloquence. He seems often 
to aim at obtaining admiration, rather than at operating 
conviction, by what he says. Hence, on some occasions, he 
is showy, rather than solid ; and diffuse, where he ought to 
have been pressing. His sentences are at all times round 
and sonorous ; they cannot be accused of monotony, for 
they possess variety of cadence ; but from too great a study 
of magnificence, he is sometimes deficient in strength. On 
all occasions, where there is the least room for it, he is full 
of himself. His great actions, and the real services which 
he had performed to his country, apologise for this in 
part ; ancient manners, too, imposed fewer restraints from 
the side of decorum ; but, even after these allowances are 
made, Cicero's ostentation of himself cannot be wholly pal- 
liated ; and his orations, indeed all his works, leave on our 



ORATORY IN ROME. 53 



minds the impression of a good man, but, withal of a vain 
man." 

The following comparison of Cicero and Demosthenes is 
worthy of insertion here : 

u On the subject of comparing Cicero and Demosthenes, 
much has been said by critical writers. The different man- 
ners of these two princes of eloquence, and the distinguish- 
ing characters of each, are so strongly marked in their 
writings, that the comparison is, in many respects, obvious 
and easy. The character of Demosthenes is vigour and 
austerity ; that of Cicero is gentleness and insinuation. In 
the one, you find more manliness ; in the other, more orna- 
ment. The one is more harsh, but more spirited and cogent ; 
the other more agreeable, but, withal, looser and weaker. 

" To account for this difference, without any prejudice to 
Cicero, it has been said, that we must look to the nature of 
their different auditories : that the refined Athenians followed 
with ease the concise and convincing eloquence of Demos- 
thenes ; but that a manner more popular, more flowery, and 
declamatory was requisite in speaking to the Romans, a 
people less acute, and less acquainted with the arts of speech. 
But this is not satisfactory. For we must observe, that the 
Greek orator spoke much oftener before a mixed multitude 
than the Roman. Almost all the public business of Athens 
was transacted in popular assemblies. The common people 
were his hearers and his judges ; whereas Cicero generally 
addressed himself to the ' Patres Conscripti,' or, in criminal 
trials, to the Praetor and the Select Judges; and it cannot 
be imagined that the persons of highest rank and best edu- 
cation in Rome required a more diffuse manner of pleading 
than the common citizens of Athens, in order to make them 
understand the cause, or relish the speaker. Perhaps we 
shall come nearer the truth by observing, that to unite to- 
gether all the qualities, without the least exception, that 
form a perfect orator, and to excel equally in each of those 
qualities, is not to be expected from the limited powers of 
human genius. The highest degree of strength is, I suspect, 
never found united with the highest degree of smoothness 



54 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



and ornament ; equal attentions to both are incompatible; 
and the genius that carries ornament to its utmost length is 
not of such a kind as can excel as much in vigour. For 
there plainly lies the characteristical difference between these 
two celebrated orators. 

" It is a disadvantage to Demosthenes that, besides his 
conciseness, which sometimes produces obscurity, the lan- 
guage in which he writes is less familiar to most of us than 
the Latin, and that we are less acquainted with the Greek 
antiquities than we are with the Roman. We read Cicero 
with more ease, and of course with more pleasure. Inde- 
pendent of this circumstance too, he is no doubt, in himself, 
a more agreeable writer than the other. But notwithstand- 
ing this advantage, I am of opinion that, were the state in 
danger, or some great public interest at stake, which drew 
the serious attention of men, an oration in the spirit and 
strain of Demosthenes would have more weight, and produce 
greater effects, than one in the Ciceronian manner. Were 
Demosthenes' Philippics spoken in a British assembly, in a 
similar conjuncture of affairs, they would convince and per- 
suade at this day. The rapid style, the vehement reasoning, 
the disdain, anger, boldness, freedom, which perpetually ani- 
mate them, would render their success infallible over any 
modern assembly. I question whether the same can be said 
of Cicero's orations; whose eloquence, however beautiful, 
and however well suited to the Roman taste, yet borders 
oftener on declamation, and is more remote from the man- 
ner in which we now expect to hear real business and causes 
of importance treated." 

Cicero's orations against Verres have been regarded by 
many writers as among the most splendid monuments of his 
genius. Of the six orations against Verres which have come 
down to us, Cicero delivered but one. Soon after the trial 
was begun, Verres, overwhelmed by the evidence of guilt 
which was produced against him, without awaiting the de- 
cision of the court, went into voluntary exile. If he had 
made a defence, the other five speeches would doubtless 
have been delivered. These orations contain many beautiful 



ORATORY IN ROME. 55 



passages. Perhaps the most eloquent was that in which 
he described the crucifixion of Publius Gavius Cosanus, an 
innocent Roman citizen. " Its conception is grand ; its 
arrangement, beautiful ; its pathos, deep and thrilling. It 
is not surpassed by anything of the kind in the history of 
ancient eloquence." 

Before introducing this passage, the author will give a 
judicious reflection of an able critic: "The punishments of 
death and torture usually reserved for slaves, but inflicted 
by Verres on freemen of Rome, formed the climax of his 
atrocities, which are detailed in oratorical progression. After 
the vivid description of his former crimes, one scarcely ex- 
pects that new terms of indignation will be found ; but the 
expressions of the orator become more glowing, in propor- 
tion as Verres grows more daring in his guilt. The sacred 
character borne over all the world by a Roman citizen, must 
be fully remembered, in order to read with due feeling the 
description of the punishment of Gavius, who was scourged, 
and then nailed to a cross, which, by a refinement in cruelty, 
was erected on the shore, and facing Italy, that he might 
suffer death with his view directed towards home and a 
land of liberty. The whole is poured forth in a torrent of 
the most rapid and fervid composition ; and had it actually 
flowed from the lips of the speaker, we can not doubt the 
prodigious effect it would have had on a Roman audience 
and on Roman judges." 

Here we have the orator's touching description of the 
punishment and execution of Gavius : " For why should I 
speak," said Cicero, " of Publius Gavius, a citizen of the 
municipality of Cosa, O judges ! or with what vigour of 
language, with what gravity of expression, with what grief 
of mind shall I mention him ? But, indeed, that indignation 
fails me. I must take more care than usual that what I am 
going to say be worthy of my subject — worthy of the indig- 
nation which I feel. For the charge is of such a nature, 
that when I was first informed of it I thought I should not 
avail myself of it. For although I knew that it was entirely 
true, still I thought that it would not appear credible. 



56 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Being compelled by the tears of all the Roman citizens who 
are Irving as traders in Sicily, being influenced by the testi- 
monies of the men of Valentia, most honourable men, and by 
those of all the Rhe.gians, and of many Roman knights who 
happened at that time to be at Messana, I produced at the 
previous pleading only just that amount of evidence which 
might prevent the matter from appearing doubtful to any 
one. What shall I do now ? When I have been speaking for 
so many hours of one class of offences, and of that man's 
nefarious cruelty, — when I have now expended nearly all 
my treasures of words of such a sort as are worthy of that 
man's wickedness on other matters, and have omitted to 
take precautions to keep your attention on the stretch by 
diversifying my accusations, how am I to deal with an affair 
of the importance that this is ? There is, I think, but one 
method, but one line open to me. I will place the matter 
plainly before you, which is of itself of such importance that 
there is no need of my eloquence — and eloquence, indeed, I 
have none, but there is no need of any one's eloquence to 
excite your feelings. This Gavius whom I am speaking of, 
a citizen of Cosa, when he (among that vast number of 
Roman citizens who had been treated in the same way) had 
been thrown by Verres into prison, and somehow or other 
had escaped secretly out of the stone quarries, and had come 
to Messana, being now almost within sight of Italy and of 
the walls of Rhegium, and being revived, after that fear of 
death and that darkness, by the light, as it were, of liberty 
and of the fragrance of the laws, began to talk at Messana, 
and to complain that he, a Roman citizen, had been thrown 
into prison. He said that he was now going straight to 
Rome, and that he would meet Verres on his arrival there. 

" The miserable man was not aware that it made no differ- 
ence whether he said this at Messana, or before the man's 
face in his own praetorian palace. For, as I have shown you 
before, that man had selected this city as the assistant in his 
crimes, the receiver of his thefts, the partner in all his 
wickedness. Accordingly, Gavius is at once brought before 
the Mamertine magistrates ; and, as it happened, Verres 



ORATORY IN ROME. 57 



came on that very day to Messana. The matter is brought 
before him. He is told that the man was a Roman citizen, 
who was complaining that at Syracuse he had been confined 
in the stone-quarries, and who, when he was actually em- 
barking on board ship, and -uttering violent threats against 
Verres, had been brought back by them, and reserved in 
order that he himself might decide what should be done 
with him. He thanks the men and praises their good-will 
and diligence in his behalf. He himself, inflamed with wicked- 
ness and frenzy, comes into the forum. His eyes glared ; 
cruelty was visible in his whole appearance. All men waited 
to see what steps he was going to take — what he was going 
to do ; when all of a sudden he orders the man to be 
seized, and to be stripped and bound in the middle of 
the forum, and the rods to be got ready. The miserable 
man cried out that he was a Roman citizen, a citizen also, of 
the municipal town of Cosa, — that he had served with Lucius 
Pretius, a most illustrious Roman knight, who was living 
as a trader at Panormus, and from whom Verres might know 
that he was speaking the truth. Then Verres says that he 
has ascertained that he had been sent into Sicily by the 
leaders of the runaway slaves, in order to act as a spy ; a 
matter as to which there was no witness, no trace, nor even 
the slightest suspicion in the mind of any one. Then he 
orders the man to be most violently scourged on all sides. 
In the middle of the forum of Messana a Roman citizen, O 
judges, was beaten with rods ; while in the meantime no 
groan was heard, no other expression was heard from that 
wretched man, amid all his pain, and between the sound of 
the blows, except these words, ' I am a citizen of Rome.' 
He fancied that by this one statement of his citizenship he 
could ward off all blows, and remove all torture from his 
person. He not only did not succeed in averting by his 
entreaties the violence of the rods, but as he kept on 
repeating his entreaties and the assertion of his citizenship, 
a cross — a cross, T say — was got ready for that miserable 
man, who had never witnessed such a stretch of power. 
" O the sweet name of liberty ! O the admirable privileges 



58 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of our citizenship ! Porcian law! Sempronian laws! 
O power of the tribunes, bitterly regretted by, and at last 
restored to, the Roman people ! Have all our rights fallen 
so far, that in a province of the Roman people, — in a town 
of our confederate allies, — a Roman citizen should be bound 
in the forum, and beaten with rods by a man who only had 
the fasces and the axes through the kindness of the Roman 
people ? What shall I say ? When fire, and red-hot plates 
and other instruments of torture were employed? If the 
bitter entreaties and the miserable cries of that man had no 
power to restrain you, were you not moved even by the weep- 
ing and loud groans of the Roman citizens who were present 
at that time ? Did you dare to drag anyone to the cross 
who said that he was a Roman citizen ? 

" If you, O Verres ! being taken among the Persians or in 
the remotest parts of India, were being led to execution, 
what else would you cry out but that you were a Roman 
citizen ? And if that name of your city, honoured and re- 
nowned as it is among all men, would have availed you, a 
stranger among strangers, among barbarians, among men 
placed in the most remote and distant corners of the earth, 
ought not he, whoever he was, whom you were hurrying to 
the cross, who was a stranger to you, to have been able, 
when he said that he was a Roman citizen, to obtain from 
you, the praetor, if not an escape, at least a respite from 
death by his mention of and claims to citizenship ? 

" Men of no importance, born in an obscure rank, go to 
sea ; they go to places which they have never seen before ; 
where they can neither be known to the men among whom 
they have arrived, nor always find people to vouch for them. 
But still, owing to this confidence in the mere fact of their 
citizenship, they think that they shall be safe, not only 
among our own magistrates, who are restrained by fear of 
the laws and of public opinion, nor among our fellow-citizens 
only, who are united with them by community of language, 
of rights, and of many other things ; but wherever they come 
they think that this will be a protection to them. Take away 
this protection from Roman citizens, establish the fact that 



ORATORY IN ROME. 59 



there is no assistance to be found in the words ' I am a 
Roman citizen ' ; that a praetor, or any other officer, may 
with impunity order any punishment he pleases to be in- 
flicted on a man who says that he is a Roman citizen, though 
no one knows that it is not true ; and at one blow, by admit- 
ting that defence, you cut off from the Roman citizens all 
the provinces, and the kingdoms, all free cities, and indeed 
the whole world, which has hitherto been open most es- 
pecially to our countrymen. 

" But why need I say more about Gavius ? as if you were 
hostile to Gavius, and not rather an enemy to the name and 
class of citizens, and to all their rights. You were not, I say, 
an enemy to the individual, but to the common cause of 
liberty. For what was our object in ordering the Marrier- 
tines, when, according to their regular custom and usage, 
they had erected the cross behind the city in the Pompeian 
road, to place it where it looked towards the strait ; and in 
adding, what you can by no means deny, what you said 
openly in the hearing of everyone, that you chose that place 
in order that the man who said that he was a Roman citizen, 
might be able from his cross to behold Italy and to look 
towards his own home? And accordingly, O judges, that 
cross, for the first time since the foundation of Messana, was 
erected in that place. A spot commanding a view of Italy 
was picked out by that man, for the express purpose that the 
wretched man who was dying in agony and torture might see 
that the rights of liberty and of slavery were only separated 
by a very narrow strait, and that Italy might behold her son 
murdered by the most miserable and most painful punish- 
ment appropriate to slaves alone. 

" It is a crime to bind a Roman citizen ; to scourge him is 
a wickedness ; to put him to death is almost parricide. What 
shall I say of crucifying him ? So guilty an action cannot 
by any possibility be adequately expressed by any name bad 
enough for it. Yet with all this that man was not content. 
* Let him behold his country,' said he ; ' let him die within 
sight of laws and liberty.' It was not Gavius, it was not one 
individual, I know not whom, — it was not one Roman citi- 



6o HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



zen, — it was the common cause of freedom and citizenship 
that you exposed to that torture and nailed on that cross. 
But now consider the audacity of the man. Do not you 
think that he was indignant that he could not erect that 
cross for Roman citizens in the forum, in the comitium, in 
the very rostra ? For the place in his province which was 
the most like those places in celebrity, and the nearest to 
them in point of distance, he did select. He chose that 
monument of his wickedness and audacity to be in the sight 
of Italy, in the very vestibule of Sicily, within sight of all 
passers-by as they sailed to and fro." 

Cicero, however, acquired his greatest renown as a states- 
man and an orator by detecting and crushing the famous 
conspiracy of Catiline. His orations against Catiline are the 
greatest which he delivered. They are among the best 
models of style that adorn Roman literature. 

Sallust and other historians have given a history of the 
Catilinarian conspiracy, which was crushed B.C. 63, and it is 
doubtless familiar to the reader. It is therefore unnecessary 
to give a full account of this plot, which had for objects the 
burning of Rome and the ruin of the republic. 

" It was to have been carried into effect in this manner : Cati- 
line was to leave Rome and join his forces, assembled in differ- 
ent parts of Italy, while his accomplices in the city were to 
burn the Capitol, and massacre the senators and citizens. 
Cicero, by his vigilance, having discovered their infernal 
design, summoned the senate to meet in the temple of 
Jupiter (this temple was only used for this purpose on 
occasions of great danger), in the Capitol, that he might lay 
before it the whole circumstance of the deep-laid plot. The 
presence of Catiline, who had the boldness to appear in the 
midst of the assembly, so inflamed the orator that he imme- 
diately rose and broke out in that severe, overwhelming 
invective which produced such an electric effect when de- 
livered, and which cannot, at this day, be read without 
emotion. It was in a thundering tone of exasperated elo- 
quence that Cicero exclaimed, as he fixed his eye upon the 
conspirator : 



ORATORY IN ROME. 6 1 



" ' When, O Catiline, do you mean to cease abusing our 
patience? How long is that madness of yours still to mock 
us ? When is there to be an end of that unbridled audacity of 
yours, swaggering about as it does now ? Do not the mighty 
guards placed on the Palatine Hill — do not the watches 
posted throughout the city — does not the alarm of the peo- 
ple, and the union of all good men — does not the precau- 
tion taken of assembling the senate in this most defensible 
place — do not the looks and countenances of this venerable 
body here present, have any effect upon you ? Do you 
not feel that your plans are detected ? Do you not 
see that your conspiracy is already arrested and rendered 
powerless by the knowledge which everyone here possesses 
of it ? What is there that you did last night, what the night 
before — where is it that you were — who was there that you 
summoned to meet you — what design was there which was 
adopted by you with which you think that any one of us is 
unacquainted ? 

" ' Shame on the age and on its principles ! The senate is 
aware of these things ; the consul sees them ; and yet this 
man lives. Lives! aye, he comes even into the senate. He 
takes part in the public deliberations ; he is watching and 
marking down and checking off for slaughter every indi- 
vidual among us. And we, gallant men that we are, think 
that we are doing our duty to the republic if we keep out of 
the way of his frenzied attacks. 

" ' You ought, O Catiline, long ago to have been led to 
execution by command of the consul. That destruction 
which you have been long plotting against us ought to have 
already fallen on your own head. 

" ' I wish, O conscript fathers, to be merciful ; I wish not 
to appear negligent amid such danger to the state ; but I do 
now accuse myself of remissness and culpable inactivity. A 
camp is pitched in Italy, at the entrance of Etruria, in hos- 
tility to the republic ; the number of the enemy increases 
every day ; and yet the general of that camp, the leader of 
those enemies we see within the walls — aye, and even in the 
senate — planning every day some internal injury to the re- 



62 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



public. If, O Catiline, I should now order you to be 
arrested, to be put to death, I should, I suppose, have to 
fear lest all good men should say that I had acted tardily, 
rather than that any one should affirm that I acted cruelly. 
But yet this, which ought to have been done long since, I 
have good reason for not doing as yet ; I will put you to 
death, then, when there shall be not .one person possible to 
be found so wicked, so abandoned, so like yourself, as not 
to allow that it has been rightly done. As long as one per- 
son exists who can dare to defend you, you shall live ; but 
you shall live as you do now, surrounded by my many and 
trusty guards so that you shall not be able to stir one finger 
against the republic : many eyes and ears shall still observe 
and watch you, as they have hitherto done, though you shall 
not perceive them. 

" ' As, then, this is the case, O Catiline, continue as you 
have begun. Leave the city at least : the gates are open ; 
depart. That Manlian camp of yours has been waiting too 
long for you as its general. And lead forth with you all 
your friends, or at least as many as you can ; purge the city 
of your presence ; you will deliver me from a great fear, 
when there is a wall between me and you. Among us you 
can dwell no longer. I will not bear it, I will not permit it, 
I will not tolerate it. 

" * For what is there, O Catiline, that can now afford you 
any pleasure in this city ? for there is no one in it, except 
that band of profligate conspirators of yours, who does not 
fear you — no one who does not hate you. What brand of 
domestic baseness is not stamped upon your life ? What 
disgraceful circumstance is wanting to your infamy in 
your private affairs ? From what licentiousness have your 
eyes, from what atrocity have your hands, from what iniquity 
has your whole body ever abstained ? Is there one youth 
when you have once entangled him in the temptations of 
your corruption, to whom you have not held out a sword 
for audacious crime, or a torch for licentious wickedness ? 

" ' Begone from the city, O Catiline, deliver the republic 
from fear; depart into banishment, if that is the word you 



OR A TOR Y IjV ROME. 63 



are waiting for. What now, Catiline ? Do you not per- 
ceive, do you not see the silence of these men ; they per- 
mit it, they say nothing; why wait you for the authority of 
their words when you see their wishes in their silence ? 

" ' Wherefore, O conscript fathers, let the worthless begone, 
— let them separate themselves from the good, — let them 
collect in one place, — let them, as I have often said before, 
be separated from us by a wall ; let them cease to plot 
against the consul in his own house, — to surround the tri- 
bunal of the city praetor, — to besiege the senate house with 
swords, — to prepare brands and torches to burn the city ; 
let it, in short, be written on the brow of every citizen, what 
are his sentiments about the republic. I promise you this, 
O conscript fathers, that there shall be so much diligence in 
us the consuls, so much authority in you, so much virtue 
in the Roman knights, so much unanimity in all good men, 
that you shall see everything made plain and manifest by the 
departure of Catiline, — everything checked and punished.' 

" Catiline did not venture to make any reply to this 
speech, but he begged the senate not to be too hasty in be- 
lieving everything which was said to his prejudice by one 
who had always been his enemy, as Cicero had ; and alleged 
his high birth, and the stake which he had in the prosperity 
of the commonwealth, as arguments to make it appear im- 
probable that he should seek to injure it ; and called Cicero 
a stranger, and a new inhabitant of Rome. But the senate 
interrupted him with a general outcry, calling him traitor 
and parricide. Upon which, being rendered furious and 
desperate, he declared aloud what he had before said to 
Cato, that since he was circumvented and driven headlong 
by his enemies, he would quench the flame which his enemies 
were kindling around him in the common ruin. And so he 
rushed out of the temple. 

" In point of effect, this oration must have been perfectly 
electric. The disclosure to the criminal himself of his most 
secret purposes — their flagitious nature, threatening the life 
of every one present — the whole course of his villainies and 
treasons, blazoned forth with the fire of increased eloquence 



64 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



— and the adjuration to him, by flying from Rome, to free 
his country from such a pestilence, were all wonderfully cal- 
culated to excite astonishment, admiration, and horror.' , 

This speech produced a powerful effect. It was the 
means of driving Catiline from Rome, and of saving the 
commonwealth from utter ruin. After the conspirator had 
fled from the city, Cicero called the people together into the 
forum, and delivered his second Catilinarian oration, which 
commences as follows : 

" At length, O Romans, we have dismissed from the city, 
or driven out, or, when he was departing of his own accord, 
we have pursued with words, Lucius Catiline, mad with 
audacity, breathing wickedness, impiously planning mischief 
to his country, threatening fire and sword to you and to this 
city. He is gone, he has departed, he has disappeared, he 
has rushed out. No injury will now be prepared against 
these walls within the walls themselves by that monster and 
prodigy of wickedness. And we have, without controversy, 
defeated him, the sole general of this domestic war. For 
now that dagger will no longer hover about our sides ; we 
shall not be afraid in the campus, in the forum, in the 
senate-house, — ay, and within our own private walls. He 
was moved from his place when he was driven from the city. 
Now we shall openly carry on a regular war with an enemy 
without hindrance. Beyond all question we ruin the man ; 
we have defeated him splendidly when we have driven him 
from secret treachery into open warfare. But that he has 
not taken with him his sword red with blood as he intended, 
— that he has left us alive, — that we wrested the weapon from 
'his hands, — that he has left the citizens safe and the city 
standing, what great and overwhelming grief must you think 
that this is to him ! Now he lies prostrate, O Romans, and 
feels himself stricken down and abject, and often casts back 
his eyes towards this city, which he mourns over as snatched 
from his jaws, but which seems to me to rejoice at having 
vomited forth such a pest, and cast it out of doors." 

The conspiracy was suppressed finally by the execution 
of five of the principal conspirators, and by the fall of Cati- 



ORA TOR Y IN ROME. 65 



line himself in battle. Cicero for his services on this occa- 
sion received the thanks of the senate, and was universally 
hailed as the deliverer and father of his country. 

All of the orations of Cicero deserve careful reading and 
study ; especially is this true of the speech for Archias and 
that for Milo. 

The orations against Marc Antony were the last which 
Cicero delivered. Cicero looked upon Antony as the great- 
est enemy to the liberties of the Roman people. From 
their resemblance to speeches of Demosthenes against Philip, 
these orations received the name of Philippics. 

The peroration of the second Philippic contains a bold 
exclamation against Antony : " Consider, I beg you, Marcus 
Antoninus, do some time or other consider the republic ; 
think of the family of which you are born, not of the men 
with whom you are living. Be reconciled to the republic. 
However, do you decide on your conduct. As to mine, I 
myself will declare what that shall be. I defended tJie re- 
public as a young man, I will not abandon it now that I am 
old. I scorned the sword of Catiline, I will not quail before 
yours. No, I will rather cheerfully expose my own person if 
the liberty of the city can be restored by my death. 

" May the indignation of the Roman people at last bring 
forth what it has been so long labouring with. In truth, if 
twenty years ago in this very temple I asserted that death 
would not come prematurely upon a man of consular rank, 
with how much more truth must I now say the same of an 
old man ? To me, indeed, O conscript fathers, death is 
even now desirable, after all the honours which I have gained, 
and the deeds which I have done. I only pray for these 
two things : one, that dying I may leave the Roman people 
free. No greater boon than this can be granted me by the 
immortal gods. The other, that every one may meet with a 
fate suitable to his deserts and conduct toward the republic." 

The last extract which the author will give, is the perora- 
tion of the sixth Philippic, addressed to the people, in which 
the orator endeavours to show that Roman citizens cannot 
be reduced to slavery : 



66 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" It is impossible for the Roman people to be slaves ; that 
people whom the immortal gods have ordained should rule 
over all nations. Matters are now come to a crisis. We are 
fighting for our freedom. Either you must conquer, O 
Romans, which indeed you will do if you continue to act 
with such piety and such unanimity, or you must do any- 
thing rather than become slaves. Other nations can endure 
slavery. Liberty is the inalienable possession of the Roman 
people." 

But the fetters of the Roman people had been forged, and 
their liberty was at an end. They did not heed the notes 
of warning which he sounded. He was included in the pro- 
scription of Antony, and was assassinated in the sixty-fourth 
year of his age, B.C. 43. 

Quintilian has said of Cicero that his name " is only 
another for eloquence itself, and that he united in his man- 
ner the vehemence of Demosthenes, the copiousness of 
Plato, and the sweetness of Isocrates." 

No adequate conception can now be formed of Cicero's 
impassioned eloquence. The most glowing description can 
but imperfectly paint the charms of his oratory. Its great- 
est force lay in the living voice — the graceful gesture — the 
expressive countenance — the beaming eye — the pathos and 
power of tone which thrill the hearer ; — these were some of 
the characteristics of that oratory which so often thrilled the 
heart of a Roman audience. 

Forensic oratory may be said to have passed away, at 
Rome, with the republic. Eloquence cannot' exist under 
a despotic form of government. It can only be found in 
countries w r here free institutions flourish. Crematius Cardus, 
in the reign of Tiberius, thought otherwise, and on one oc- 
casion, he alluded in terms of praise to the patriots of the 
republic. He eulogised Brutus, and designated Cassius as 
the last of the Romans, but his temerity cost him his life. 

In the dialogue on the " Causes of the Corruption of Elo- 
quence," written, it is thought, by Tacitus a little more than 
a century after the death of Cicero, the author feelingly la- 
ments that oratory was extinct. He says : " Often have you 



OR A TOR V IN ROME. 67 



asked me, Justus Fabius, why, when former ages were so dis- 
tinguished by the genius and renown of orators, our own age, 
destitute and bereft of glory, scarce retains the very name. 
For we style none such now except the ancients ; but the 
speakers of the present day are called pleaders, and advo- 
cates, and barristers, and anything rather than orators." 

Judging from what Juvenal says of it, the bar in his time, 
at Rome, was by no means in a prosperous and satisfactory 
state : 

" Say now what honours advocates attend, 
Whose shelves beneath a load of volumes bend ; 
The voice stentorian in the courts we hear, 
But chiefly when some creditor is near : 
A show of business eager to display, 
Their lungs like panting bellows work away. 
Alas ! a hundred lawyers scarce can gain, 
What one successful jockey will obtain. — 
The court has met : with pale and careworn face 
You rise to plead some helpless client's case, 
And crack your voice ; for what ? when all is o'er, 
To see a bunch of laurel on your door. 
This is. the meed of eloquence ; to dine • 
On dried-up hams, and cabbage, and sour wine : 
If by good luck four briefs you chance to hold, 
And your eye glistens at the sight of gold ; 
Think not to pocket all the hard-won fee, 
For the attorney claims his share with thee. 
Large sums ^Emilius can command, 't is true, 
Although a far worse advocate than you ; 
But then his steed of bronze and brazen car 
The rich ^Emilius to the world declare ; 
While lance in hand he rides a sculptur'd knight, 
And seems a warrior charging in the fight." 

Pliny the younger also speaks of the changed condition of 
the forum in his day, and of the unprofessional and unworthy 
arts which were resorted to to gain a reputation and attract 
clients. In one of his epistles to a friend he says : " You are 
right in your conjecture. I am tired to death of causes in 



68 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



the centumviral courts, which give me practice rather than 
pleasure, for they are for the most part trifling and trumpery. 
A case seldom occurs distinguished either by the rank of the 
parties, or the importance of the matter in dispute. Besides, 
there are very few counsel with whom it is at all agreeable to 
be engaged. The rest are generally obscure young men 
with plenty of effrontery, who go there to make declamatory 
speeches with such rashness and want of modesty, that my 
friend Attilius seems to have said, with great truth, that boys 
at the bar begin with causes in those courts, just as they did 
with Homer at school." 

Pliny also mentions, with disapproval, the practice of 
certain advocates who hired claqueurs to attend upon them 
and applaud their speeches in court. He says: "If you 
chance to pass through the hall, and wish to know how each 
counsel acquits himself, you have no occasion to listen to 
what he says. You may rest assured that he is the worst 
speaker who has the loudest applause." Pliny says that 
Sergius Licinius first introduced this practice : " Once, when 
Domitius Afer was pleading a cause before the centumvirs, 
he suddenly heard, in the adjoining court, a loud and un- 
usual shouting, and for a few moments he stopped. When 
the noise ceased he went on, but soon there was another 
shout of applause and he again paused. After he had re- 
sumed his argument, he was again interrupted, and he then 
asked who was speaking in the other court. He was told 
that it was Licinius ; upon which he said, addressing the 
judges, ' This is a death-blow to the profession.' ,; 

Ulpian in his treatise Ad E dictum tells us that an express 
law was enacted to prevent the fair sex from pleading in the 
courts of law, " that they might not intermeddle in such 
matters, contrary to the modesty befitting their sex, nor en- 
gage in employments proper to men." The cause of this 
edict being passed, is said to have been the conduct of a 
virago named Cafrfania, a most troublesome and ill-condi- 
tioned lady, who gave the magistrates a great deal of trouble 
by her importunity in court. An exception was made, how- 
ever, in favour of the daughters of advocates who could not 



OR A TOR Y IN KOME. 



69 



attend in person on account of sickness or infirmity, and who 
could not get anyone else to plead for them." 

In one of the books written during the middle ages the 
following advice is given to the forensic orator. He was 
told that, in order that his discourse " might have dignity 
and beauty, there are three things necessary : first, it must 
please ; secondly, it must convince ; thirdly, it must per- 
suade. For the first effect the pleader must speak grace- 
fully ; for the second plainly ; for the third with great ardour 
and fervency." 




CHAPTER III. 



MODERN ORATORY. 



ORATORY is immortal. In some form or other 
oratory will live, and have its influence upon man- 
kind, as in past ages, and in different countries, as 
long as the human heart is inhabited by the passions which 
are inherent to our nature and which have taken up their 
residence there, and as long as it is necessary to discuss im- 
portant questions in the pulpit, the senate, and the bar. 

" Not until human nature is other than it is, will the func-j 
Hon of the living voice — the greatest force on earth among 
men — cease" said Henry Ward Beecher. The same magnifi- 
cent orator said, also : " I advocate, therefore, in its full 
extent, and for every reason of humanity, of patriotism, and 
of religion, a more thorough culture of oratory ; and I define 
oratory to be the art of influencing conduct with the truth set 
home by all the resources of the living many 

The study of oratory has of late years been too much 
neglected by public speakers — especially by lawyers. They 
do not give enough attention to general literature. By 
giving a portion of their time to the study of polite litera- 
ture, aside from the benefits derived from an accumulation 
of valuable facts and felicitous phrases, they would return 
to their more rugged pursuits with greater alacrity and with 
renewed strength. 

The mind is invigorated, strengthened, and improved by 
turning it into other channels occasionally. 

70 



MODERN ORATORY. J\ 



" A mere lawyer is a mere jackass, and has never the 
power to unload himself ; whereas I consider the advocate — 
the thoroughly accomplished advocate — the highest style of 
man. He is always ready to learn, and always ready to 
teach. Hortensius was a lawyer, Cicero an orator. The 
one is forgotten, the other is immortal," said one of the 
greatest of American lawyers — David Paul Brown. 

Good speaking, in a republican form of government like 
our own, is usually a direct road to riches and honour, and 
it should be cultivated assiduously by those who are en- 
dowed by nature with the requisite natural ability. 

The oratory of the American bar is not as good as it 
should be. Too many of our speakers imagine they are 
heaven-born geniuses, and that it is useless for them to 
study the art of oratory. The success of many of our foren- 
sic orators is owing in a great measure to the exertions of 
strong parts and masculine understandings, breaking through 
and surmounting the incumbrances of a bad style and an 
ungraceful elocution. We are often content to fatigue our 
attention in listening to these men, because we know that 
their matter and their acuteness in the application of it 
will, in the end, make us compensation. The pleasure of 
hearing them, however, is greatly diminished by the incor- 
rectness of their language, the want of conclusiveness of 
their arguments, and the dryness of their diction. 

There are, however, bright stars in our legal hemisphere 
to whom this criticism does not apply. But their eloquence 
derives that dazzling lustre with which it is irradiated, from 
the acquirements of logical and rhetorical support and 
ornament. 

Neither Greece nor Rome, in their palmiest days, pre- 
sented a fairer field than that which now invites the culture 
of the enlightened citizens of America. We enjoy as much 
liberty as is consistent with the nature of man. We possess 
as a nation all the advantages which climate, soil, and situ- 
ation can bestow, and nothing but merit is here required as 
a qualification for the highest offices of state. Eloquence 
never had more ample scope. 



J 2 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



We must not rest satisfied with admiring the celebrated 
orators of Greece and Rome. Oratory, that most sublime 
of all arts, must not be neglected, while every other useful 
and ornamental art speeds swiftly toward perfection. 

American eloquence should be raised above all Greek, 
above all Roman fame. To our young readers, especially, 
we would repeat the words of Adams : 

" Is it your intention to devote the labours of your ma- 
turity to the cause of justice ; to defend the persons, the 
property, and the fame of your fellow-citizens from the open 
assaults of violence, and the secret encroachments of fraud ? 
Fill the fountains of your eloquence from inexhaustible 
sources, that their streams, when they shall begin to flow, 
may themselves prove inexhaustible. 

" Is there among you a youth whose bosom burns with 
the fires of honourable ambition ; who aspires to immortalise 
his name by the extent and importance of his services to his 
country ; whose visions of futurity glow with the hope of 
presiding in her councils, of directing her affairs, of appear- 
ing to future ages, on the rolls of fame, as her ornament and 
pride ? Let him catch from the relics of ancient oratory 
those unresisted powers which mould the mind of a man to 
the will of the speaker, and yield the guidance of a nation 
to the dominion of the voice. 

" Under governments purely republican, where every 
citizen has a deep interest in the affairs of the nation, and, in 
some form of public assembly or other, has the means and 
opportunity of delivering his opinions, and of communicating 
his sentiments by speech, — where government itself has no 
arms but those of persuasion, — where prejudice has not ac- 
quired an uncontrolled ascendancy, and faction is yet confined 
within the barriers of peace, the voice of eloquence will not 
'be heard in vain. 

" March then with firm, with steady, with undeviating 
step to the prize of your high calling. Gather fragrance 
from the whole paradise of science, and learn to distil from 
your lips all the honeys of persuasion. Consecrate, above 
all, the faculties of your life to the cause of truth, of freedom, 



MODERN ORATORY. 73 



and of humanity. So shall your country ever gladden at 
the sound of your voice, and every talent, added to your 
accomplishments, become another blessing to mankind." 

The advance of civilisation' is great, and the engines of 
force are mighty, but man is greater than that which he pro- 
duces. Unspeakably great and useful is the Press, and the 
voice is -its most important auxiliary. There is work for 
both. It has been said that our greatest orators have not 
been trained. This is not true. On the contrary, the most 
successful forensic and political orators of ancient and mod- 
ern times have been diligent students of oratory from the 
time of Demosthenes to the present, and including that 
great forensic orator, Hon. Joseph H. Choate, the most 
successful advocate of the present day. 

Henry Clay, by his own exertions, chiefly, became an 
accomplished and cultured orator, and it is said that Daniel 
Webster was studious of everything he did, even to the 
selection of the buttons for his coat. 

He who does not believe that industry is necessary to the 
attainment of eloquence, should read the following extract 
from the works of an able writer upon the subject : 

" The history of the world is full of testimony to prove 
how much depends upon industry. Not an eminent orator 
has lived but is an example of it. Yet, in contradiction to 
all this, the almost universal feeling appears to be, that 
industry can effect nothing, that eminence is the result of 
accident, and that every one must be content to remain just 
what he may happen to be. Thus, multitudes, who come 
forward as teachers and guides, suffer themselves to be 
satisfied with the most indifferent attainments, and a 
miserable mediocrity, without so much as inquiring how 
they may rise higher, much less, making any attempt to 
rise. For any other art they would have served an appren- 
ticeship and would be ashamed to practise it in public 
before they had learned it. If any one would sing, he 
attends a master, and is drilled in the very elementary prin- 
ciples ; and it is only after the most laborious process that 
he dares to exercise his voice in public. ■ This he does, 



74 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



though he has scarcely anything to learn but the mechani- 
cal execution of what lies in sensible forms before the eye. 
But the extempore speaker, who is to invent, as well as to 
utter, to carry on an operation of the mind, as well as to 
produce sound, enters upon the work without preparatory 
discipline, and then wonders that he fails ! If he were 
learning to play on the flute for public exhibition, how 
many hours and days would he spend in giving facility to 
his fingers, and in attaining the power of the sweetest and 
most expressive execution ! " 

The author cannot commend too highly the following 
comparison between ancient and modern oratory by John 
Quincy Adams: 

" At the revival of letters in modern Europe, Eloquence, 
together with her sister muses, awoke, and shook the pop- 
pies from her brow. But their torpors still tingled in her 
veins. In the interval her voice was gone ; her favourite 
languages were extinct ; her organs were no longer attuned 
to harmony, and her hearers could no longer understand her 
speech. The discordant jargon of feudal anarchy had ban- 
ished the musical dialects, in which she had always 
delighted. The theatres of her former triumphs were 
either deserted, or they were filled with the babblers of 
sophistry and chicane. She shrunk intuitively from the 
forum, for the last object she remembered to have seen 
there was the head of her darling Cicero, planted upon the 
rostrum. She ascended the tribunals of justice ; there she 
found her child, Persuasion, manacled and pinioned by the 
(letter of the law ; there she beheld an image of herself, stam- 
mering in barbarous Latin, and staggering under the lum- 
ber of a thousand volumes. Her heart fainted within her. 
She lost all confidence in herself. Tegether with her irre- 
sistible powers, she lost proportionably the consideration of 
the world, until, instead of comprising the whole system of 
public education, she found herself excluded from the circle 
of sciences, and declared an outlaw from the realms of 
learning. She was not, however, doomed to eternal silence. 
With the progress of freedom and of liberal science, in vari- 



MODERN ORATORY. ?$ 



ous parts of modern Europe, she obtained access to mingle 
in the deliberations of their parliaments. With labour and 
difficulty she learned their languages, and lent her aid in 
giving them form and polish. But she has never recovered 
the graces of her former beauty, nor the energies of her 
ancient vigour. 

" The immeasurable superiority of ancient over modern 
oratory is one of the most remarkable circumstances which 
offer themselves to the scrutiny of reflecting minds, and it is 
in the languages, the institutions, and the manners of modern 
Europe, that the solution of a phenomenon so extraordi- 
nary must be sought. The assemblies of the people, of the 
select councils, or of the senate in Athens and Rome, were 
held for the purpose of real deliberation. The fate of meas- 
ures was not decided before they were proposed. Eloquence 
produced a powerful effect, not only upon the minds of the 
hearers, but upon the issue of the deliberation. In the only 
countries of modern Europe, where the semblance of delib- 
erative assemblies has been preserved, corruption, here in 
the form of executive influence, there in the guise of party 
spirit, by introducing a more compendious mode of securing 
decisions, has crippled the sublimest efforts of oratory, and 
the votes upon questions of magnitude to the interest of 
nations are all told, long before the questions themselves 
are submitted to discussion. Hence those nations, which 
for ages have gloried in the devotion to literature, science, 
and the arts, have never been able to exhibit a specimen of 
deliberative oratory that can bear a comparison with those 
transmitted down to us from antiquity. 

" Religion indeed has opened one new avenue to the 
career of eloquence. Amidst the sacrifices of paganism to 
her three hundred thousand gods, amidst her sagacious and 
solemn consultations in the entrails of slaughtered brutes, 
in the flight of birds, and the feeding of fowls, it had never 
entered her imagination to call upon the pontiff, the haru- 
spex, or the augur, for discourses to the people, on the 
nature of their duties to their Maker, their fellow-mortals, 
and themselves. This was an idea, too august to be mingled 



j6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



with the absurd and ridiculous, or profligate and barbarous 
rites of her deplorable superstition. It is an institution, for 
which mankind are indebted to Christianity ; introduced by 
the Founder himself of this divine religion, and in every 
point of view worthy of its high original. Its effects have 
been to soften the tempers and purify the morals of man- 
kind ; not in so high a degree as benevolence could wish, 
but enough to call forth our strains of warmest gratitude to 
that good Being, who provides us with the means of pro- 
moting our own felicity, and gives us power to stand, 
though leaving us free to fall. Here then is an unbounded 
and inexhaustible field for eloquence, never explored by the 
ancient orators ; and here alone have the modern Europeans 
cultivated the art with much success. In vain should we 
enter the halls of justice, in vain should we listen to debates 
of senates for strains of oratory worthy of remembrance 
beyond the duration of the occasion which called them 
forth. The art of embalming thought by oratory, like that 
of embalming bodies by aromatics, would have perished, 
but for the exercises of religion. These alone have in the 
latter ages furnished discourses which remind us that elo- 
quence is yet a faculty of the human mind. 

" Among the causes which have contributed thus to depress 
the oratory of modern times, must be numbered the indiffer- 
ence with which it has been treated as an article of educa- 
tion. The ancients had fostered an opinion, that this talent 
was in a more than usual degree the creature of discipline ; 
and it is one of the maxims handed down to us as a result 
of their experience, that men must be born to poetry, and 
bred to eloquence ; that the bard is always the child of 
nature, and the orator always the issue of instruction. The 
doctrine seems to be not entirely without foundation, but 
was by them carried in both its parts to an extravagant 
excess. 

" The foundations for the oratorical talent, as well as those 
of the poetical faculty, must be laid in the bounties of 
nature ; and as the muse in Homer, impartial in her dis- 
tribution of good and evil, struck the bard with blindness, 



MODERN ORATORY. J J 



when she gave him the powers of song, her sister not unfre- 
quently, by a like mixture of tenderness and rigour, bestows 
the blessing of wisdom, while she refuses the readiness of 
utterance. Without entering however into a disquisition 
which would lead me far beyond the limits of this occasion, 
I may remark that the modern Europeans have run into 
the adverse extreme, and appear, during a considerable 
period, in their system of public education, to have passed 
upon eloquence a sentence of proscription. Even when 
they studied RHETORIC as a theory, they neglected 
ORATORY as an art ; and while assiduously unfolding to 
their pupils the bright displays of Greek and Roman elo- 
quence, they never attempted to make them eloquent 
themselves." 

The golden age of modern parliamentary and forensic 
oratory was the latter part of the eighteenth century. This 
period was illuminated by the brilliant genius of Vergniaud 
and Mirabeau in France ; of Chatham, Burke, Pitt, Fox, 
Sheridan, Grattan, Curran, and Erskine in England ; of 
Henry, Otis, Warren, the Adamses, and many others in 
America. It was not only an age of oratorical glory, but of 
literary and scientific greatness. 

It was an illustrious period, too, in political history for 
some of the most important events that have ever occurred. 

Mr. Alison has so beautifully described this era, which 
may be designated as that of George III., that the author 
cannot forbear repeating a passage of his graphic descrip- 
tion, affording a grand view of the world when the " flame 
of eloquence shone so steadily and burned so brightly in 
Europe and America." The eloquent historian mentioned 
says : 

"The reign of George III. embraces, beyond all question, 
the most eventful and important period in the annals of 
mankind. In its eventful days were combined the growth 
of Grecian democracy with the passions of Roman ambi- 
tion ; the fervour of plebeian zeal with the pride of aristo- 
cratic power; the blood of Marius with the genius of Caesar; 
the opening of a nobler hemisphere to the enterprise of Co- 



7 8 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



lumbus, with the rise of a social agent as mighty as the press 
or the powers of steam. 

" But if new elements were called into action in the social 
world, of surpassing strength and energy, in the course. of 
this memorable reign, still more remarkable were the char- 
acters which rose to eminence during its continuance. The 
military genius, unconquerable courage, and enduring con- 
stancy of Frederick ; the ardent mind, burning eloquence, 
and lofty patriotism of Chatham ; the incorruptible integrity, 
sagacious intellect, and philosophic spirit of Franklin ; the 
disinterested virtue, prophetic wisdom, and imperturbable 
fortitude of Washington ; the masculine understanding, fem- 
inine passions, and blood-stained ambition of Catharine, 
would alone have been sufficient to cast a radiance over any 
other age of the world. But bright as were the stars of its 
morning light, more brilliant still was the constellation 
which shone forth in its meridian splendour, or cast a glow 
over the twilight of its evening shades. Then were to be 
seen the rival genius of Pitt and Fox, which, emblematic of 
the antagonist powers which then convulsed mankind, shook 
the British senate by their vehemence, and roused the spirit 
destined, ere long, for the dearest interests of humanity, to 
array the world in arms ; then the great soul of Burke cast 
off the unworldly fetters of ambition or party, and, fraught 
with a giant's force and a prophet's wisdom, regained its 
destiny in the cause of mankind ; then the arm of Nelson 
cast its thunderbolts on every shore, and preserved un- 
scathed in the deep the ark of European freedom ; and, ere 
his reign expired, the wisdom of Wellington had erected an 
impassable barrier to Gallic ambition, and said, even to the 
deluge of imperial power, l Hitherto shalt thou come and 
no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.' Nor 
were splendid genius, heroic virtue, gigantic wickedness 
wanting on the opposite side of this heart-stirring conflict. 
Mirabeau had thrown over the morning of the French 
Revolution the brilliant but deceitful light of democratic 
genius ; Danton had coloured its noontide glow with the 
passions and the energy of tribunitian power; Carnot had 



OR A TOR Y IN ROME. 79 



exhibited the combination, rare in a corrupted age, of re- 
publican energy with private virtue ; Robespierre had dark- 
ened its evening days by the blood and agony of selfish 
ambition ; Napoleon had risen like a meteor over its mid- 
night darkness, dazzled the world by the brightness of his 
genius and the lustre of his deeds, and lured its votaries, by 
the deceitful blaze of glory, to perdition. 

" In calmer pursuits in the tranquil walks of science and 
literature, the same age was, beyond all others, fruitful in 
illustrious men. Doctor Johnson, the strongest intellect 
and the most profound observer of the eighteenth century ; 
Gibbon, the architect of a bridge over the dark gulf which, 
separates ancient from modern times, whose vivid genius 
has tinged with brilliant colours the greatest historical work 
in existence ; Hume, whose simple but profound history 
will be coeval with the long and eventful thread of English 
story ; Robertson, who first threw over the maze of human 
events the light of philosophic genius and the spirit of en- 
lightened reflection ; Gray, whose burning thoughts had 
been condensed in words of more than classic beauty ; 
Burns, whose lofty soul spread its own pathos and dignity 
over the ' short and simple annals of the poor' ; Smith, who 
called into existence a new science, fraught with the dearest 
interests of humanity, and nearly brought it to perfection in 
a single lifetime ; Reid, who carried into the recesses of the 
human mind the torch of cool and sagacious inquiry ; Stew- 
art, who cast a luminous glance over the philosophy of 
mind, and warmed the inmost recesses of metaphysical in- 
quiry by the delicacy of taste and the glow of eloquence ; 
Watt, who added an unknown, power to the resources of 
art, and in the regulated force of steam discovered the 
means of approximating the most distant parts of the earth 
and spreading in the wilderness of nature the wonders of 
European enterprise and the blessings of Christian civilisa- 
tion ; these formed some of the ornaments of the period, 
during its earlier and more pacific times, forever memorable 
in the annals of scientific acquisition and literary greatness." 

The author feels that he would not do his subject justice 



8o HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



if he did not here quote the valuable, and in the main just, 
observations of Dr. Blair upon modern eloquence. He dif- 
fers, however, from that author when he says, agreeing with 
Mr. Hume, that the English bar does not afford a fine 
theatre for oratory. In forming this conclusion these dis- 
tinguished writers laboured under some disadvantage, for 
they had only before their view the Scottish bar, where the 
trial by jury is allowed only in criminal cases, or was at least 
at the time he wrote. But in England and America, where 
in the superior as well as inferior judicatures, almost every 
cause is tried by a jury of twelve men, fairly selected by ballot, 
the very finest opportunity for the display of eloquence is 
afforded the advocate. The author will grant what Dr. Blair 
says, that he is in some degree confined by the precision of 
our laws, still he speaks to the jury largely on matters of fact, 
and the less of technical language he uses the greater will 
be the effect of what he says. Of course, the sober charac- 
ter of the people in the countries mentioned, and the feeling 
of jurymen that they are bound by their oaths, prevent them 
from being unduly swayed by the eloquence of advocates. 
As Dr. Blair's work has been largely used as a text-book, the 
author is inclined to believe that his dictum has influenced 
many lawyers to pay less attention to the study of forensic 
oratory than they should have given it. Eloquence is, or 
should be, spoken wisdom, and it is so described by Cicero. 
It is certain that nearly every successful aspirant for political 
or forensic honours, even in America, has been an untiring 
student of oratory. With these remarks of a prefatory char- 
acter, the author inserts at this place Dr. Blair's observations 
upon modern eloquence: 

" In the decline of the Roman empire, the introduction 
of Christianity gave rise to a new species of eloquence, in 
the apologies, sermons, and pastoral writings of the Fathers 
of the Church. Among the Latin Fathers, Lactantius and 
Minutius Felix are the most remarkable for purity of style ; 
and, in a later age, the famous St. Augustine possesses a 
considerable share of sprightliness and strength. But none 
of the Fathers afford any just models of eloquence. Their 



MODERN ORATORY. 8 1 



language, as soon as we descend to the third or fourth cen- 
tury, becomes harsh ; and they are, in general, infected with 
the taste of that age, a love of swollen and strained thoughts, 
and of the play of words. Among the Greek Fathers, the 
most distinguished by far, for his oratorical merit, is St. 
Chrysostom. His language is pure, his style highly figured. 
He is copious, smooth, and sometimes pathetic. But he 
retains, at the same time, much of that character which has 
been always attributed to the Asiatic eloquence, diffuse and 
redundant to a great degree, and often overwrought and 
tumid. He may be read, however, with advantage, for the 
eloquence of the pulpit, as being freer from false ornaments 
than the Latin Fathers. 

" As there is nothing more that occurs to me, deserving 
particular attention in the middle age, I pass now to the 
state of eloquence in modern times. Here, it must be con- 
fessed, that in no European nation public speaking has been 
considered as so great an object, or been cultivated with so 
much care, as in Greece or Rome. Its reputation has never 
been so high ; its effects have never been so considerable : 
nor has that high and sublime kind of it, which prevailed in 
those ancient states, been so much as aimed at : notwith- 
standing, too, that a new profession has been established, 
which gives peculiar advantages to oratory, and affords it 
the noblest field; I mean that of the Church. The genius 
of the world seems, in this respect, to have undergone some 
alteration. The two countries where we might expect to 
find most of the spirit of eloquence are France and Great 
Britain : France, on account of the distinguished turn of the 
nation towards all the liberal arts, and of the encouragement 
which, for this century past, these arts have received from 
the public ; Great Britain, on account both of the public 
capacity and genius, and of the free government which it 
enjoys. Yet so it is, that, in neither of those countries, has 
the talent of public speaking risen near to the degree of its 
ancient splendour ; while in other productions of genius, 
both in prose and in poetry, they have contended for the 
prize with Greece and Rome ; nay, in some compositions, 

6 



82 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

may be thought to have surpassed them : the names of De- 
mosthenes and Cicero stand, at this day, unrivalled in fame ; 
and it would be held presumptuous and absurd to pretend 
to place any modern whatever in the same, or even in a 
nearly equal rank. 

" It seems particularly surprising that Great Britain should 
not have made a more conspicuous figure in eloquence than 
it has hitherto attained ; when we consider the enlightened, 
and, at the same time, the free and bold genius of the* coun- 
try, which seems not a little to favour oratory ; and when 
we consider that, of all the polite nations, it alone possesses 
a popular government, or admits into the legislature such 
numerous assemblies as can be supposed to lie under the 
dominion of eloquence. Notwithstanding this advantage, 
it must be confessed that, in most parts of eloquence, we 
are undoubtedly inferior, not only to the Greeks and Ro- 
mans by many degrees, but also to the French. We have 
philosophers, eminent and conspicuous, perhaps, beyond 
any nation, in all the parts of science. We have both taste 
and erudition in a high degree. We have historians, we 
have poets of the greatest name ; but of orators, of public 
speakers, how little have we to boast ! And where are the 
monuments of their genius to be found ! In every period 
we have had some who made a figure, by managing the 
debates in parliament ; but that figure was commonly owing 
to their wisdom, or their experience in business, more than 
to their talent for oratory ; and unless in some few instances, 
wherein the power of oratory has appeared, indeed, with 
much lustre, the art of parliamentary speaking rather ob- 
tained to several a temporary applause, than conferred upon 
any a lasting renown. At the bar, though questionless, we 
have many able pleaders, yet few or none of their pleadings 
have been thought worthy to be transmitted to posterity, 
or have commanded attention any longer than the cause 
which was the subject of them interested the public ; while 
in France, the pleadings of Patru, in the former age, and 
those of Couching and D'Aguesseau, in later times, are read 
with pleasure, and are often quoted as examples of eloquence 



MODERN ORATORY. 83 



by the French critics. In the same manner, in the pulpit, 
the British divines have distinguished themselves by the 
most accurate and rational compositions which, perhaps, any 
nation can boast of. Many printed sermons we have, full 
of good sense, and of sound divinity and morality ; but the 
eloquence to be found in them, the power of persuasion, of 
interesting and engaging the heart, which is, or ought to be, 
the great object of the pulpit, is far from bearing a suitable 
proportion to the excellence of the matter. There are few 
arts, in my opinion, farther from perfection than that of 
preaching is among us ; the reasons of which I shall after- 
wards have occasion to discuss. In proof of the fact, it is 
sufficient to observe, that an English sermon, instead of 
being a persuasive, animated oration, seldom rises beyond 
the strain of correct and dry reasoning ; whereas, in the 
sermons of Bossuet, Massilon, Bourdaloue, and Flechier, 
among the French, we see a much higher species of elo- 
quence aimed at, and in a great measure attained, than the 
British preachers have in view. 

" In general, the characteristical difference between the 
state of eloquence in France and in Great Britain is, that 
the French have adopted higher ideas both of pleasing and 
persuading by means of oratory, though, sometimes, in the 
execution, they fail. In Great Britain we have taken up 
eloquence in a lower key ; but in our execution, as was 
naturally to be expected, have been more correct. In 
France, the style of their orators is ornamented with bolder 
figure, and their discourse carried on with more amplifica- 
tion, more warmth and elevation. The composition is often 
very beautiful ; but sometimes, also, too diffuse and deficient 
in that strength and cogency which renders eloquence pow- 
erful ; a defect owing, perhaps, in part, to the genius of the 
people, which leads them to attend fully as much to orna- 
ment as to substance, and, in part, to the nature of their 
government, which by excluding public speaking from hav- 
ing much influence on the conduct of public affairs, deprives 
eloquence of its best opportunity for acquiring nerves and 
strength. Hence the pulpit is the principal field which is 



84 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



left for their eloquence. The members, too, of the French 
Academy give harangues at their admission, in which genius 
often appears ; but, labouring under the misfortune of having 
no subject to discourse upon, they run commonly into flat- 
tery and panegyric, the most barren and insipid of all 
topics. 

"I observed before, that the Greeks and Romans aspired 
to a more sublime species of eloquence than is aimed at by 
the moderns. Theirs was of the vehement and passionate 
kind, by which they endeavoured to inflame the minds of 
their hearers, and hurry their imaginations away ; and, suit- 
able to this vehemence of thought, was their vehemence of 
gesture and action ; the * supplosio pedis,' the ' percussio 
frontis et femoris,' were, as we learn from Cicero's writings, 
usual gestures among them at the bar ; though now they 
would be reckoned extravagant anywhere, except upon the 
stage. Modern eloquence is much more cool and temper- 
ate ; and in Great Britain especially, has confined itself 
almost wholly to the argumentative and rational. It is 
much of that species which the ancient critics called the 
' Tenuis,' or ' Subtilis ' ; which aims at convincing and in- 
structing, rather than affecting the passions, and assumes a 
tone not much higher than common argument and dis- 
course. 

" Several reasons may be given why modern eloquence has 
been so limited, and humble in its efforts. In the first place, 
I am of opinion that this change must, in part, be ascribed 
to that correct turn of thinking which has been so much 
studied in modern times. It can hardly be doubted that, in 
many efforts of mere genius, the ancient Greeks and Romans 
excelled us, but, on the other hand, that, in accuracy and 
closeness of reasoning on many subjects, we have some ad- 
vantage over them, ought, I think, to be admitted also. In 
proportion as the world has advanced, philosophy has made 
greater progress. A certain strictness of good sense has, in 
this island particularly, been cultivated and introduced into 
every subject. Hence we are more on our guard against the 
flowers of elocution ; we are now on the watch ; we are 



MODERN ORATORY. 85 



jealous of being deceived by oratory. Our public speakers 
are obliged to be more reserved than the ancients, in their 
attempts to elevate the imagination, and warm the passions; 
and by the influence of prevailing taste, their own genius is 
sobered and chastened, perhaps, in too great a degree. It 
is likely too, I confess, that what we fondly ascribe to our 
correctness and good sense, is owing in a great measure to 
our phlegm and natural coldness. For the vivacity and sensi- 
bility of the Greeks and Romans, more especially of the 
former, seem to have been much greater than ours, and to 
have given them a higher relish of all the beauties of 
oratory. 

" Besides these national considerations, we must, in the 
next place, attend to peculiar circumstances in the three 
great scenes of public speaking, which have proved disad- 
vantageous to the growth of eloquence among us. Though 
the parliament of Great Britain be the noblest field which 
Europe, at this day, affords to a public speaker, yet elo- 
quence has never been so powerful an instrument there as it 
was in the popular assemblies of Greece and Rome. Under 
some former reigns, the right hand of arbitrary power bore 
a violent sway ; and in latter times, ministerial influence has 
generally prevailed. The power of speaking, though always 
considerable, yet has been often found too feeble to counter- 
balance either of these ; and, of course, has not been studied 
with so much zeal and favour as where its effect on business 
was irresistible and certain. 

" At the bar, our disadvantage, in comparison of the an- 
cients, is great. Among them, the judges were generally 
numerous ; the laws were few and simple ; the decision of 
causes was left, in a great measure, to equity and the sense 
of mankind. Here was an ample field for what they termed 
judicial eloquence. But among the moderns the case is 
quite altered. The system of law is become much more 
complicated. The knowledge of it is thereby rendered 
so laborious an attainment, as to be the chief object of a 
lawyer's education, and in a manner the study of his life. 
The art of speaking is but a secondary accomplishment to 



86 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



which he can afford to devote much less of his time and 
labour. The bounds of eloquence, besides, are now much 
circumscribed at the bar ; and, except in a few cases, reduced 
to arguing from strict law, statute, or precedent, by which 
means knowledge, much more than oratory, is become the 
principal requisite. 

" With regard to the pulpit, it has certainly been a great 
disadvantage that the practice of reading sermons, instead 
of repeating them from memory, has prevailed so univers- 
ally in England. They may, indeed, have introduced accu- 
racy, but it has done great prejudice to eloquence, for a 
discourse read is far inferior to an oration spoken. It leads 
to a different sort of composition, as well as of delivery, and 
can never have an equal effect upon any audience. An- 
other circumstance, too, has been unfortunate. The secta- 
ries and fanatics, before the Restoration, adopted a warm, 
zealous, and popular manner of preaching ; and those who 
adhered to them, in after times, continued to distinguish 
themselves by somewhat of the same manner. The odium 
of these sects drove the established church from that warmth 
which they were judged to have carried too far, into the 
opposite extreme of a studied coolness and composure of 
manner. Hence, from the art of persuasion, which preach- 
ing ought always to be, it has passed, in England, into mere 
reasoning and instruction, which not only has brought down 
the eloquence of the pulpit to a lower tone than it might 
justly assume, but has produced this farther effect that, by 
accustoming the public ear to such cool and dispassionate 
discourses, it has tended to fashion other kinds of public 
speaking upon the same model. 

" Thus I have given some view of the state of eloquence 
in modern times, and endeavoured to account for it. It has, 
as we have seen, fallen below that splendour which it main- 
tained in ancient ages, and from being sublime and vehement, 
has come down to be temperate and cool. Yet, still, in that 
region which it occupies, it admits great scope ; and to the 
defect of zeal and application, more than to the want of 
capacity and genius, we may ascribe its not having hitherto 



MODERN ORATORY. 87 



risen higher. It is a field where there is much honour yet to 
be reaped ; it is an instrument which may be employed for 
purposes of the highest importance. The ancient models 
may still, with much advantage, be set before us for imita- 
tion, though in that imitation we must, doubtless, have some 
regard to what modern taste and modern manners will 
bear, of which I shall afterwards have occasion to say more. 

Lawyers, eloquent, fearless, and honest, have always been 
among the first to resist the encroachments of tyranny, and 
promote the welfare of the human race. 

History proves the truth of this assertion. 

Demosthenes, who roused the Athenians to arms against 
the tyrannical Philip, was a lawyer ; Cicero, who did such 
valiant service for the cause of freedom, and whose eloquent 
orations still nerve the patriot's arm and fire his heart, was 
a lawyer. When Charles I. endeavoured to establish an 
absolute monarchy in England, he was first opposed by 
lawyers. France has been regenerated by lawyers, and at 
the present moment her greatest statesmen are lawyers. 

When Great Britain endeavoured to deprive the Colonies 
of their rights, they were aroused to conquest by the voices 
of Otis, Henry, Adams, and other lawyers, and the beacon 
lights of patriotism and law are kept burning by lawyers at 
the present moment in England and America, and it is to 
be hoped that they will be perpetually kindled by them 
until time is merged into eternity. 




CHAPTER IV. 

ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 

THE conduct of advocates in England has been sub- 
jected to very little legislative interference. A 
statute, however, which is still in force, was passed 
in 1275, in the reign of Edward L, whereby it was provided, 
" That if any sergeant, countor, or others, do any manner 
of deceit or collusion in the king's court, or consent unto it, 
in deceit of the court, or to beguile the court, or the party, 
and thereof be attainted, he shall be imprisoned for a year 
and a day, and from thenceforth shall not be heard to plead 
in that court for any man ; and if he be no countor, he shall 
be imprisoned in like manner by the space of a year and a 
day at least ; and if the trespass shall require greater punish- 
ment it shall be at the king's pleasure." 

In the Mirroir des Justices, one of the most ancient Eng- 
lish law books extant, it is laid down that every pleader (or 
countor as he is called) on behalf of others ought to have 
regard to four things : First, that he be a person receivable 
in judgment ; that he be no heretic, excommunicate person, 
nor criminal, nor a man of religion, nor a woman, nor a ben- 
eficed clerk with cure of souls, nor under the age of twenty- 
one years, nor judge in the same cause, nor attainted of 
falsity against the right of his office. Secondly, every 
pleader is to be charged by oath that he will not maintain 
nor defend what is wrong or false to his knowledge, but will 
fight {gnerrd) for his client to the utmost of his ability. 
Thirdly, he is to put in before the court no false delays 
(dilatory pleas), nor false evidence, nor move nor offer any 

83 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 89 

corruptions, deceits, or tricks, or false lies, nor consent to any 
such, but truly maintain the right of his client, so that it 
fail not through any folly, negligence, or default in him. 
Fourthly, in respect to his salary four things are to be con- 
sidered — the value of the cause ; the pains of the sergeant ; 
the worth of the pleader in point of knowledge, eloquence, 
and gifts ; the usage of the court. And a pleader is to be 
suspended if he be attainted of having received fees from 
both sides in the same cause, and if he say or do anything in 
contempt of the court." 

In England, forensic eloquence was almost unknown until 
the latter part of the eighteenth century. Finch, afterwards 
Lord Nottingham, was called in his day the " English Cicero," 
and the English Roscius, but the speeches of his which have 
come down to us do not justify these epithets. The State 
Trials, that voluminous and interesting repository of cases, 
may be searched in vain for the higher efforts of forensic 
oratory. Immense learning, and research, a remarkable 
familiarity with precedents, and sound and logical argu- 
ments are found, however. 

Eloquence has always been comparatively rare among the 
advocates of England, but there are causes to account for 
this. One reason is the technicality which formerly per- 
vaded every branch of English law. Special pleading seems 
to have the effect of cramping and confining the intellect. 

Owing to its enormous and unwieldy mass, the English 
law is unfavourable to the cultivation of oratory. " This 
tends to suffocate the fire of genius, and deadens the imagi- 
nation which shrinks back in affright from the aspect of the 
thousand volumes in which are enshrined the mysteries of 
our jurisprudence." It is said that in six hundred volumes 
of law reports there are not less than two hundred and forty 
thousand points. The immense number of law books, it 
must be remembered, continues yearly to increase both in 
England and in this country. Each session of parliament, 
there, or of the legislature here, gives birth to a bulky volume 
of statutes to swell the numerous progeny of legislation. 
The increase of law reports is also alarming. 



90 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



The effect of this system of laws, then, upon eloquence 
must be very great. 

In ancient times, during the flourishing periods of Greek 
and Roman eloquence, the laws were few in number and 
simple in phraseology, and the judges were vested with a 
large discretion, and were governed to a large extent by 
equity and common sense. The study of the laws was not 
such a laborious occupation, requiring the drudgery of years 
to finish it. The statesmen and generals of Rome were nearly 
all lawyers, and Cicero, amongst the multiplicity of his en- 
gagements, declared that he would undertake in a few days 
to make himself a complete civilian.- And of course when 
an advocate addresses himself to the equity of the judges 
he has greater room for the display of eloquence, than where 
he must draw his arguments from strict laws. In the former 
case many personal considerations may be regarded, and 
even favour and inclination, which it belongs to the advocate 
to conciliate by his eloquence, may be disguised under the 
appearance of equity. 

The chief reason, however, of the absence of eloquence is 
a neglect of the means necessary to acquire the habit of 
graceful and fluent elocution. It is strange that so little 
pains should be taken by advocates to qualify themselves 
for success in speaking. They seem to believe that elo- 
quence must spring into being like Minerva from the head 
of Jove, instantaneously, in full and perfect panoply, and 
that it requires no discipline and study in advance. Or else 
they dread the infinite labor which they must undergo, in 
order to perfect themselves in the art of speaking. 

If the poet, the musician, the sculptor, and the artist all 
devote themselves with untiring assiduity to a study of the 
principles of their art, why should the advocate imagine 
that he is exempt from the necessity of toil ? 

In studying the history of modern parliamentary elo- 
quence there is little to interest us until we come to the 
time of Lord Chatham, if we except the traditionary accounts 
of the wonderful oratorical ability of Lord Bolingbroke. Of 
course we find some sudden bursts of genuine eloquence 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 9 1 



in the speeches of Pym, Eliot, Vane, and other statesmen of 
the English Commonwealth under Cromwell, yet we hear not 
the highest notes until Chatham arises and sways the British 
senate by the spell of his magnificent oratory. The author 
will now proceed to contemplate some of the most celebrated 
orators and statesmen, beginning with Lord Bolingbroke. 

Bolingbroke. — Henry St. John, Lord Viscount Boling- 
broke, was born in October, 1678, at Battersea in Surrey, at 
a seat that had been in the possession of his ancestors for 
ages before. He was educated at Eton and Oxford, and 
there laid the foundation of his classical education which he 
afterward completed. He was more extensively acquainted 
with Latin than Greek literature. 

St. John's handsome person, and a face in which dignity 
was happily blended with sweetness, his commanding 
presence, his fascinating address, his vivacity, his wit, his ex- 
traordinary memory, his subtlety in thinking and reasoning, 
and oratorical powers of the very highest order, contributed 
to his phenomenal success as a parliamentary orator. 

Very few fragments of his speeches have come down to 
us, but from criticisms of those who heard him speak, and 
from his published writings, they must have been brilliant, 
sarcastic, and extremely effective, and Lord Chatham said 
that the loss of his speeches was to be more greatly deplored 
than the lost books of Livy. 

His application to business was prodigious, and he would 
sometimes plod for whole days and nights in succession, like 
the lowest clerk in an office. 

Bolingbroke died on the 12th day of December, 175 1. 

The following testimony of Lord Brougham to his oratori- 
cal powers is convincing : 

" Few men, whose public life was so short, have filled a 
greater space in the eyes of the world during his own times 
than Lord Bolingbroke, or left behind them a more brilliant 
reputation. Not more than fifteen years elapsed between 
his first coming into parliament and his attainder ; during not 
more than ten of these years was he brought before the 
public in the course of its proceedings ; and yet, as a states- 



92 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



man and an orator, his name ranks among the most famous 
in our history, independent of the brilliant literary reputa- 
tion which places him among the best classics of our 
Augustan age. Much of his rhetorical fame may certainly 
be ascribed to the merit of his written works ; but had he 
never composed a page, he would still have come down to 
our times as one of the most able and eloquent men of 
whom this country could boast. 

" They who look down upon even the purely ethical and 
purely metaphysical writings of Bolingbroke, would do well 
to show us any statesman or any orator, except perhaps 
Cicero, who in any age has brought to the senate the same 
resources of moral science, which even the failures of Boling- 
broke, as a professed author on these subjects, prove him to 
have possessed ; and it is hardly necessary to remark how 
vast an accession of force to his eloquence, whether in its 
argumentative, its pathetic, or its declamatory department, 
would have been gained by even far less skill, capacity, or 
practice, than he had as a moral philosopher, a student of 
the nature of the mind, or an expert logician. 

■" Accordingly, when all these accomplishments, joined to 
his strong natural sagacity, his penetrating acuteness, his ex- 
traordinary quickness of apprehension, a clearness of 
understanding, against which sophistry set itself up in 
vain, as the difficulties of the most complicated subjects in 
vain opposed his industry and his courage, with a fancy rich, 
lively, various beyond that of most men, a wit exuberant 
and sparkling, a vehemence of passion belonging to his 
whole temperament, even to his physical powers, came to be 
displayed before the assembly which he was to address, and 
when the mighty * armentaria cceli' were found under the 
command of one whose rich endowments of mind and 
whose ample stores of acquired virtue resided in a person 
of singularly animated countenance, at once beautiful and 
expressive, and made themselves heard in the strains of an 
unrivalled voice, it is easy to comprehend how vast, how 
irresistible must have been their impression. 

" But all agree in describing the external qualities of his 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 93 



oratory as perfect. A symmetrical, beautiful, and animated 
countenance, a noble and dignified person, a sonorous and 
flexible voice, action graceful and correct, though unstudied, 
gave an inexpressible charm to those who witnessed his 
extraordinary displays as spectators or critics, and armed 
his eloquence with resistless effect over those whom it was 
intended to sway, or persuade, or control. If the concurring 
accounts of witnesses, and the testimony to his merits borne 
by his writings, may be trusted, he must be pronounced to 
stand, upon the whole, at the head of modern orators. 
There may have been more measure and matured power 
in Pitt, more fire in the occasional bursts of Chatham, more 
unbridled vehemence, more intent reasoning in Fox, more 
deep-toned declamation in passages of Sheridan, more 
learned imagery in Burke, more wit and humour in Canning, 
but, as a whole, and taking in all rhetorical gifts, and all the 
orator's accomplishments, no one, perhaps hardly the union 
of several of them, can match what we are taught by 
tradition to admire in Bolingbroke's spoken eloquence, and 
what the study of his works makes us easily believe to be 
true." 

St. John devoted much time to the study of metaphysics 
— a study which he thought absolutely essential to the man 
who seeks to make the minds of others acknowledge his own 
mind's dominion. 

He recognised the fact that the law is a science, worthy 
of the most assiduous study, and the standard of excellence 
which he set for the legal profession was high, as will be 
seen from the following passage from his dissertation on the 
Study of History : " There have been lawyers that were 
orators, philosophers, historians : there have been Bacons 
and Clarendons, my lord. There will be none such any 
more, till, in some better age, true ambition, or the love of 
fame, prevails over avarice, and till men find leisure and en- 
couragement to prepare themselves for the exercise of this 
profession, by climbing up to the vantage ground, so my 
Lord Bacon calls it, of science ; instead of grovelling all 
their lives below, in a mean, but gainful application to all 



94 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



the little arts of chicane. Till this happen, the profession of 
the law will scarce deserve to be ranked among the learned 
professions ; and whenever it happens, one of the vantage 
grounds to which men must climb, is metaphysical, and the 
other historical, knowledge. They must pry into the secret 
recesses of the human heart, and become well acquainted 
with the whole moral world, that they may discover the 
abstract reason of all laws ; and they must trace the laws 
of particular states, especially of their own, from the first 
rough sketches to the more perfect draughts, from the first 
causes or occasions that produced them, through all the 
effects, good and bad, that they produced." 

St. John was well read in both ancient and modern history. 
He says upon the study of history : 

" Man is the subject of every history ; and to know him 
well we must see him and consider him, as history alone can 
present him to us, in every age, in every country, in every 
state, in life, and in death. History, therefore, of all kinds, 
of civilised and uncivilised, of ancient and modern nations, 
in short, all history that descends to a sufficient detail of 
human actions and characters, is useful to bring us acquainted 
with our species, nay, with ourselves. To teach and to in- 
culcate the general principles of virtue, and the general rules 
of wisdom and good policy, which result from such details 
of actions and characters, comes for the most part, and always 
should come, expressly and directly into the design of those 
who are capable of giving such details ; and therefore whilst 
they narrate as historians they hint often as philosophers, 
they put into our hands as it were, on every proper occasion, 
the end of a clue that serves to remind us of searching, and 
to guide in the search of that truth which the example before 
us either establishes or illustrates. If a writer neglects this part, 
we are able, however, to supply his neglect by our attention and 
industry, and when he gives us a good history of Peruvians or 
Mexicans, of Chinese or Tartars, of Muscovites or Negroes, we 
may blame him, but we must blame ourselves much more if we 
do not make it a good lesson of philosophy. This being the 
general use of history, it is not to be neglected. Every one 



ORATORY IN- ENGLAND. 9$ 



may make it who is able to read and to reflect on what he 
reads, and every one who makes it will find in his degree 
the benefit that arises from an early acquaintance contracted 
in this manner with mankind. We are not only passengers 
and sojourners in this world, but we are absolute strangers 
at the first steps we make in it. Our guides are often 
ignorant, often unfaithful. By this map of the country 
which history spreads before us, we may learn, if we please, 
to guide ourselves. In our journey through it we are beset 
on every side. We are besieged sometimes even in our 
strongest holds. Terrors and temptations, conducted by 
the passions of other men, assault us, and our own passions, 
which correspond with these, betray us. History is a col- 
lection of the journals of those who have travelled through 
the same country and been exposed to the same accidents, 
and their good and their ill success are equally instructive. 
In this pursuit of knowledge an immense field is spread to 
us : general histories, sacred and profane ; the histories of 
particular countries, particular events, particular orders, par- 
ticular men ; memorials, anecdotes, travels. But we must 
not ramble in this field without discernment or choice, nor 
even with these must we ramble too long. . . . 

" As soon as we have taken this general view of mankind, 
and of the course of human affairs in different ages and 
different parts of the world, we ought to apply, and, the 
shortness of human life considered, to confine ourselves 
almost entirely in our study of history to such histories as 
have an immediate relation to our professions, or to our rank 
and situation in the society to which we belong. Let me 
instance the profession of divinity as the noblest and the 
most important." 

The foregoing extract is worthy of the closest study. 

Sir Edward Creasy, a recent English writer, says of St. 
John : " I unhesitatingly place him at the head of all the 
prose writers in our language." 

The beauty and propriety of his images and illustrations 
are never introduced for mere purposes of adornment, but 
to support the arguments they adorn. In a letter to Wind- 



g6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ham he says : " The ocean which environs us is an emblem 
of our government, and the pilot and the minister are in 
similar circumstances. It seldom . happens that either of 
them can steer a direct course, and they both arrive at their 
part by means which frequently seem to carry them from 
it." In "The Spirit of the Times " he truthfully and beauti- 
fully says : " Eloquence must flow like a stream that is fed 
by an abundant stream, and not spout forth a little frothy 
water on some gaudy day, and remain dry all the rest of the 
year." 

The literary works of Bolingbroke undoubtedly resemble 
spoken eloquence far more than those of any man that ever 
wrote. 

He disliked, exceedingly, the mechanical drudgery of 
writing, and dictated many of his literary productions to an 
amanuensis. 

Chatham. — Few great English parliamentary orators who 
preceded Lord Chatham will be remembered by posterity. 
In his external appearance no person was ever more beauti- 
fully gifted by nature for an orator than this extraordinary 
man. 

Grace and dignity were wonderfully combined in his look 
and gesture, but dignity presided ; " the terrors of his beak, 
the lightning of his eye," were insufferable. His voice was 
marvellously clear and full, and his lowest whisper was 
audible in every part of the house. His middle tones were 
sweet, rich, and beautifully varied. When he elevated his 
voice the house was completely filled with the sound, and 
the effect is said to have been awful, except when he wished 
to cheer or animate ; and then he had " spirit-stirring " notes, 
which could not be resisted. He often suddenly rose from 
a very low to a very high key, but the effort was not 
apparent. His vocabulary was full and varied, but his 
diction was simple. 

He is said to have read Bailey's Dictioiiary through twice, 
in order to increase his stock of words. 

Unfortunately very few of Lord Chatham's speeches have 
come down to us, as he delivered them. This was owing to 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 97 



the imperfect state of parliamentary reporting in his day. 
From the time he entered the House of Commons until he 
left it, the privileges of parliament almost wholly precluded 
the possibility of full and regular accounts of debates being 
communicated to the public. They were given at one time 
under feigned names, as if held in the senate of Rome by 
the ancient orators and statesmen ; at another they were 
conveyed by the initials only of the names of the real 
speakers. Later, when these disguises were no longer used, 
speeches were composed by reporters who had not been 
present at the debates, but were only familiar with a few 
heads of each speaker's topics from some one who had 
heard him. The fullest accounts given of the speeches 
delivered at this period are mere meagre outlines of the 
subjects touched upon, and do not even present an approxi- 
mation to the execution of the orators. Many of Lord 
Chatham's earlier speeches in the House of Commons, as 
transmitted to us, were avowedly composed by Dr. John- 
son, and it is said that his " measured style, formal periods, 
balanced antitheses, and total want of pure, racy English, 
betray their author at every line, while each debate is made 
to speak exactly in the same manner." The only speech 
which there is reason to believe was revised by Lord Chat- 
ham himself, and the one most celebrated of all, was the 
one upon the employment of the Indians in the American 
war. 

Of Chatham's patriotism there can be no question. He 
was far superior to the paltry objects of a grovelling ambi- 
tion. When party ties or interests interfered with his duty 
to his country, they were set aside. He believed that the 
highest duty of man was to further the interest of the 
human species. 

Lord Chatham, when a young member, having expressed 
himself in the house with great energy, in opposition to one 
of the measures then in agitation, his speech produced an 
answer from Mr. Walpole, who in the course of it charged 
him, among other things, with youthful inexperience and 
theatrical enunciation. Mr. Walpole said : 



98 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" Sir : I was unwilling to interrupt the course of this de- 
bate, while it was carried on with calmness and decency, by 
men who do not suffer the ardour of opposition to cloud 
their reason, or transport them to such expressions as the 
dignity of this assembly does not admit. I have hitherto 
deferred to answer the gentleman who declaimed against 
the bill with such fluency of rhetoric, and such vehemence of 
gesture ; who charged the advocates of the expedients now 
proposed with having no regard to any interests but their 
own, and with making laws only to consume paper, and 
threatened them with the defection of their adherents, and 
the loss of their influence, upon this new discovery of their 
folly and their ignorance. Nor, sir, do I now answer him 
for any other purpose than to remind him how little the 
clamours of rage, and petulancy of invectives, contribute to 
the purposes for which this assembly is called together ; 
how little the discovery of truth is promoted, and the secu- 
rity of the nation established, by pompous diction and 
theatrical emotions. Formidable sounds and furious decla- 
mations, confident assertions, and lofty periods, may affect 
the young and inexperienced ; and perhaps the gentleman 
may have contracted his habits of oratory by conversing 
more with those of his own age, than with such as have had 
more opportunities of acquiring knowledge, and more suc- 
cessful methods of communicating their sentiments. If the 
heat of his temper, sir, would suffer him to attend to those 
whose age and long acquaintance with business give them 
an indisputable right to deference and superiority, he would 
learn, in time, to reason rather than declaim ; to prefer just- 
ness of argument, and an accurate knowledge of facts, to 
sounding epithets, and splendid superlatives, which may dis- 
turb the imagination for a moment, but leave no lasting im- 
pression on the mind. He will learn, sir, that to accuse and 
prove are very different, and that reproaches, unsupported 
by evidence, affect only the character of him that utters 
them. Excursions of fancy and flights of oratory are in- 
deed pardonable in young men, but in no other; and it 
would surely contribute more, even to the purpose for which 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 99 



some gentlemen appear to speak (that of depreciating the 
conduct of the administration), to prove the inconvenience 
and injustice of this bill, than barely to assert them, with 
whatever magnificence of language, or appearance of zeal, 
honesty, or compassion." 

As soon as Mr. Walpole sat down, Mr. Pitt got up and 
replied to his ill-timed reflections as follows : 

" Sir : The atrocious crime of being a young man, which 
the honourable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, 
charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor 
deny ; but content myself with wishing — that I may be one 
of those whose follies cease with their youth ; and not of 
that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. 

" Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a re- 
proach, I will not, sir, assume the province of determining — 
but surely age may become justly contemptible — if the op- 
portunities which it brings .have passed away without im- 
provement, and vice appears to prevail when the passions 
have subsided. The wretch who, after having seen the conse- 
quences of a thousand errors, continues still to blunder, and 
whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely 
the object of either abhorrence or contempt ; and deserves 
not that his grey hairs should secure him from insult. Much 
more, sir, is he to be abhorred — who, as he has advanced in 
age, has receded from virtue, and becomes more wicked with 
less temptation : who prostitutes himself for money which 
he cannot enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the 
ruin of his country. 

" But youth, sir, is not my only crime. I have been ac- 
cused of acting a theatrical part. 

" A theatrical part may either imply — some peculiarities 
of gesture, — or a dissimulation of my real sentiments, and 
the adoption of the opinions and language of another man. 

" In the first sense, the charge is too trifling to be con- 
futed ; and deserves only to be mentioned that it may be 
despised. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my 
own language ; and though I may, perhaps, have some am- 
bition, — yet to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself 



100 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



under any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his dictum 
or his mien, however matured by age or modelled by expe- 
rience. If any man shall, by charging me with theatrical 
behaviour, imply that I utter any sentiments but my own, I 
shall treat him as a calumniator and a villain ; nor shall any 
protection shelter him from the treatment he deserves. I 
shall, on such an occasion, without scruple trample upon all 
those forms with which wealth and dignity intrench them- 
selves ; nor shall anything but age restrain my resentment ; 
age, which always brings one privilege, that of being inso- 
lent and supercilious without punishment. But with regard, 
sir, to those whom I have offended,' I am of opinion, that if 
I had acted a borrowed part I should have avoided their 
censure; the heat that offended them is the ardour of con- 
viction, and that zeal for the service of my country which 
neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will 
not sit unconcerned while my. liberty is invaded, nor look 
in silence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavours, 
at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag the 
thief to justice, — whoever may protect them in their vil- 
lainy, and whoever may partake of their plunder." 
. Brougham said of the administration of Lord Chatham : 

"As soon as Mr. Pitt took the helm, the steadiness of 
the hand that held it was instantly felt in every motion of 
the vessel. There was no more of wavering counsels, 
of torpid inaction, of listless expectancy, of abject despond- 
ency. His firmness gave confidence, his spirit roused cour- 
age, his vigilance secured exertion, in every department 
under his sway. Each man, from the first Lord of the Ad- 
miralty down to the most humble clerk in the Victualling 
Office — each soldier, from the Commander-in-chief to the 
most obscure contractor or commissary — now felt assured 
that he was acting or was indolent under the eye of one 
who knew his duties and his means as well as his own, and 
who would very certainly make all defaulters, whether 
through misfeasance or through nonfeasance, accountable 
for whatever detriment the commonwealth might sustain at 
their hands. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 01 



" Over his immediate coadjutors his influence swiftly 
obtained an ascendant which it ever after retained unin- 
terrupted. Upon his first proposition for changing the con- 
duct of the war he stood single among his colleagues, and 
tendered his resignation should they persist in their dissent ; 
they at once succumbed, and from that hour ceased to have 
an opinion of their own upon any branch of the public 
affairs. Nay, so absolutely was he determined to have the 
control of those measures, of which he knew the responsi- 
bility rested upon him alone, that he insisted upon the first 
Lord of the Admiralty not having the correspondence of 
his own department ; and no less eminent a naval character 
than Lord Anson, as well as his junior Lords, was obliged 
to sign the naval orders issued by Mr. Pitt while the writing 
was covered over from their eyes ! " 

From the speech of Lord Chatham on the American war, 
which has been already mentioned, the following extract 
richly deserves a perusal : 

" I cannot, my lords, I will not, join in congratulation on 
misfortune and disgrace. This, my lords, is a perilous and 
tremendous moment. It is not a time for adulation. The 
smoothness of flattery cannot save us in this rugged and 
awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the throne in 
the language of truth. We must, if possible, dispel the 
illusion and darkness which envelop it, and display, in its 
full danger and genuine colours, the ruin which is brought to 
our doors, 

" Can ministers still presume to expect support in their 
infatuation ? Can parliament be so dead to its dignity and 
duty, as to give their support to measures thus obtruded 
and forced upon them ? Measures, my lords, which have 
reduced this late flourishing empire to ruin and contempt ! 
But yesterday, and England might have stood against the 
world ; now, none so poor as to do her reverence. 

" The people whom we at first despised as rebels, but 
whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted against 
us ; supplied with every military store, their interest con- 
sulted, and their ambassadors entertained by our inveterate 



102 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



enemy ! — and ministers do not, and dare not, interpose with 
dignity or effect. The desperate state of our army abroad 
is in part known. No man more highly esteems and honours 
the English troops than I do ; I know their virtues and their 
valour ; I know they can achieve anything but impossibili- 
ties ; and I know that the conquest of English America is 
an impossibility. 

" You cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer America. 
What is your present situation there ? We do not know 
the worst ; but we know that in three campaigns we have 
done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every 
expense, accumulate every assistance, and extend your 
traffic to the shambles of every German despot : your 
attempts will be forever vain and impotent — doubly so, 
indeed, from this mercenary aid on which you rely ; for it 
irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your 
adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of 
rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to 
the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as 
I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in 
my country, I never would lay down my arms — never, never, 



never 



" But, my lords, who is the man that, in addition to the 
disgrace and mischiefs of the war, has dared to authorise 
and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife 
of the savage ? — to call into civilised alliance the wild and 
inhuman inhabitants of the woods ? — to delegate to the 
merciless Indian the defence of disputed rights, and to wage 
the horrors of his barbarous war against our brethren ? My 
lords, these enormities cry aloud for redress and punishment. 

" But, my lords, this barbarous measure has been de- 
fended, not only on the principles of policy and necessity, 
'but also on those of morality ; ' for it is perfectly allowable,' 
says Lord Suffolk, ' to use all the means which God and 
Nature have put into our hands.' I am astonished, I am 
shocked, to hear such principles confessed ; to hear them 
avowed in this house, or in this country ! 

" My lords, I did not intend to encroach so much upon 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 03 



your attention, but I cannot repress my indignation. I feel 
myself impelled to speak. My lords, we are called upon as 
members of this house, as men, as Christian men, to protest 
against such horrible barbarity. 'That God and Nature 
have put into our hands ! ' What ideas of God and Nature 
that noble lord may entertain, I know not ; but I know that 
such detestable principles are equally abhorrent to religion 
and humanity. 

" What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and 
Nature to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife ! — to 
the cannibal savage, torturing, murdering, devouring, drink- 
ing the blood of his mangled victims ! Such notions shock 
every precept of morality, every feeling of humanity, every 
sentiment of honour. These abominable principles, and 
this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most 
decisive indignation. 

" I call upon that right reverend, and this most learned 
bench, to vindicate the religion of their God, to support the 
justice of their country. I call upon the bishops to inter- 
pose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn ; upon the judges 
to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from this 
pollution. I call upon the honour of your lordships to 
reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and maintain your 
own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country to 
vindicate the national character." 

One of the finest passages from the speeches of Lord 
Chatham is his allusion to the legal maxim, that every man's 
house is his castle : 

" The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all 
the forces of the crown. It may be frail — its roof may shake 
— the wind may blow through it — the storm may enter — 
the rain may enter — but the king of England cannot enter ! 
— all his force dares not cross the threshold of the ruined 
tenement ! " 

Another extract from his " Speech on the Address to the 
Throne," in 1770, shows his love for the ancient political 
institutions of his country. Speaking of the Charter of Run- 
nymede, he said : 



104 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" My lords, I have better hopes of the constitution, and a 
firmer confidence in the wisdom and constitutional authority 
of this house. It is to your ancestors, my lords, it is to 
the English barons, that we are indebted for the laws and 
constitution we possess. Their virtues were rude and un- 
cultivated, but they were great and sincere. Their under- 
standings were as little polished as their manners, but they 
had hearts to distinguish right from wrong ; they had heads 
to distinguish truth from falsehood ; they understood the 
rights of humanity, and they had spirit to maintain them. 

" My lords, I think that history has not done justice to 
their conduct. When they obtained from their sovereign 
that great acknowledgment of national rights contained in 
Magna Charta, they did not confine it to themselves alone, 
but delivered it as a common blessing to the whole people. 
They did not say, these are the rights of the great barons, 
or these are the rights of the great prelates : — No, my lords ; 
they said, in the simple Latin of the times, nullus liber homo y 
and provided as carefully for the meanest subject as for the 
greatest. These are uncouth words, and sound but poorly 
in the ears of scholars ; neither are they addressed to the 
criticism of scholars, but to the hearts of free men. These 
three words, nullus liber homo, have a meaning which inter- 
ests us all : they deserve to be remembered — they deserve 
to be inculcated in our minds — they are worth all the classics. 
Let us not, then, degenerate from the glorious example of 
our ancestors. Those iron barons (for so I may call them 
when compared with the silken barons of modern days) 
were the guardians of the people ; yet their virtues, my 
lords, were never engaged in a question of such importance 
as the present. A breach has been made in the constitution 
— the, battlements are dismantled — the citadel is open to 
the first invader — the walls totter — the constitution is not 
tenable. What remains, then, but for us to stand foremost 
in the breach, to repair it, or perish in it ? " 

Lord Chatham's remark on confidence, when it was asked 
by the ministry of 1766, for whom he had " some forebear- 
ance rather than any great respect," is worthy of repetition. 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. IO=C 



He said their characters were fair enough, and he was 
always glad to see such persons engaged in the public ser- 
vice ; but, turning to them with a smile, very courteous, 
but not very respectful, he said : " Confide in you ? Oh, 
no — you must pardon me, gentlemen — youth is the season 
of credulity — confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged 
bosom ! " 

Many splendid tributes have been paid to the oratorical 
talents of Lord Chatham, and from among them the author 
selects the following from Lord Brougham and others. 
Lord Brougham said of his eloquence : " All accounts, how- 
ever, concur in representing those effects to have been pro- 
digious. The spirit and vehemence which animated its 
greater passages — their perfect application to the subject- 
matter of debate — the appositeness of his invective to the 
individual assailed — the boldness of the feats which he ven- 
tured upon — the grandeur of the ideas which he unfolded — 
the heart-stirring nature of his appeals, — are all confessed 
by the united testimony of his contemporaries; and the 
fragments which remain bear out to a considerable extent 
such representations ; nor are we likely to be misled by 
those fragments, for the more striking portions were cer- 
tainly the ones least likely to be either forgotten or fabri- 
cated. To these mighty attractions was added the imposing, 
the animating, the commanding power of a countenance 
singularly expressive ; an eye so piercing that hardly any 
one could stand its glare ; and a manner altogether singu- 
larly striking, original, and characteristic ; notwithstanding 
a peculiarly defective and even awkward action. Latterly, 
indeed, his infirmities precluded all action ; and he is de- 
scribed as standing in the House of Lords leaning upon his 
crutch, and speaking for ten minutes together in an under- 
tone of voice scarcely audible, but raising his notes to their 
full pitch when he broke out into one of his grand bursts of 
invective or exclamation. But in his earlier time, his whole 
manner is represented as having been, beyond conception, 
animated and imposing. Indeed the things which he 
effected principally by means of it, or at least which noth- 



106 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ing but a most striking and commanding tone could have 
made it possible to attempt, almost exceed belief." 

A splendid tribute to the talents of Lord Chatham was 
also paid by the celebrated Wirt : 

" Talents, whenever they have had a suitable theatre, 
have never failed to emerge from obscurity, and assume 
their proper rank in the estimation of the world. The 
jealous pride of power may attempt to repress and crush 
them ; the base and malignant rancour of impotent spleen 
and envy may strive to embarrass and retard their flight : 
but these efforts, so far from achieving their ignoble pur- 
pose, so far from producing a discernible obliquity in the 
ascent of genuine and vigorous talents, will serve only to 
increase their momentum, and mark their transit with an 
additional gleam of glory. 

" When the great Earl of Chatham first made his appear- 
ance in the House of Commons, and began to astonish and 
transport the British parliament and the British nation, by 
the boldness, the force, and range of his thoughts, and the 
celestial fire, and pathos of his eloquence, it is well known 
that the minister, Walpole, and his brother Horace, from 
motives very easily understood, exerted all their wit, all 
their oratory, all their acquirements of every description, 
sustained and enforced by the unfeeling ' insolence of 
office/ to heave a mountain on his gigantic genius, and 
hide it from the world. — Poor and powerless attempt ! — The 
tables were turned. He rose upon them in the might and 
irresistible energy of his genius, and in spite of all their con- 
vulsions, frantic agonies, and spasms, he strangled them and 
their whole faction, with as much ease as Hercules did the 
serpent Python. 

" Who can turn over the debates of the day, and read 
the account of this conflict between youthful ardour and 
hoary-headed cunning and power, without kindling in the 
cause of the tyro, and shouting at his victory ? That they 
should have attempted to pass off the grand, yet solid and 
judicious operations of a mind like his, as being mere theat- 
rical start and emotion ; the giddy, hair-brained eccentric!- 



OR A TOR Y IX ENGLAXD. 1 07 



ties of a romantic boy ! That they should have had the 
presumption to suppose themselves capable of chaining 
down to the floor of the parliament a genius so ethereal, 
towering, and sublime, seems unaccountable ! Why did 
they not, in the next breath, by way of crowning the climax 
of vanity, bid the magnificent fire-ball to descend from its 
exalted and appropriate region, and perform its splendid 
tour along the surface of the earth ? 

" Talents which are before the public have nothing to 
dread, either from the jealous pride of power, or from the 
transient misrepresentations of party, spleen, or envy. In 
spite of opposition from any cause, their buoyant spirit will 
lift them to their proper grade. 

" The man who comes fairly before the world, and who 
possesses the great and vigorous stamina which entitle him 
to a niche in the temple of glory, has no reason to dread the 
ultimate result ; however slow his progress may be, he will, 
in the end, most indubitably receive that distinction. 
While the rest, ' the swallows of science/ the butterflies of 
genius, may flutter for their spring ; but they will soon pass 
away, and be remembered no more. No enterprising man, 
therefore, and least of all the truly great man, has reason 
to droop or repine at any efforts which he may suppose to 
be made with the view to depress him. Let, then, the 
tempest of envy or of malice howl around him. His genius 
will consecrate him ; and any attempt to extinguish that, 
will be as unavailing, as would a human effort ' to quench 
the stars.' 

The following observations concerning the eloquence of 
Lord Chatham were made soon after his death : 

" Those who have been witnesses to the wonders of his 
eloquence — who have listened to the music of his voice, or 
trembled at its majesty — who have seen the graceful persua- 
siveness of his action, or have felt its force ; — those who have 
caught the flame of eloquence from his eye — who have rejoiced 
in the glories of his countenance — or shrunk from his frowns, 
— will remember the resistless power with which he impressed 
conviction. But to those who never heard nor saw this 



108 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



accomplished orator, the utmost effort of imagination will 
be necessary to form a just idea of that combination of 
excellence which gave perfection to his eloquence : — his 
elevated aspect, commanding the awe and mute attention of 
all who beheld him ; whilst a certain grace in his manner, 
conscious of all the dignities of his situation, of the solemn 
scene he acted in, as well as his own exalted character, 
seemed to acknowledge and repay the respect he received ; — 
his memorable form, bowed with infirmity and age, but ani- 
mated by a mind which nothing could subdue ; — his spirit 
shining through him, arming his eye with lightning, and 
clothing his lips with thunder ; — or if milder topics offered, 
harmonising his countenance in smiles, and his voice in soft- 
ness ; — for the compass of his powers was infinite. As no 
idea was too vast, no imagination too sublime, for the grand- 
eur and majesty of his manner; so no fancy was too playful, 
nor any allusion too comic, for the ease and gaiety with 
which he could accommodate to the occasion. But the 
character of his oratory was dignity : this presided through- 
out ; giving force, because securing respect, even to his 
sallies of pleasantry. This elevated the most familiar lan- 
guage, and gave novelty and grace to the most familiar 
allusions ; so that, in his hand, even the crutch became a 
weapon of oratory." 

William Pitt. — William Pitt, the second son of William 
Pitt, Earl of Chatham, and of Lady Hester Granville, daugh- 
ter of Hester, Countess Temple, was born on the 28th of 
May, 1759. 

Pitt's genius and ambition when a child displayed them- 
selves with a rare and almost unnatural precocity. He 
amazed his parents and teachers when only seven years of 
age by the interest he took in grave subjects, the ardour 
with which he pursued his studies, and the sound judgment 
with which he criticised books and events. When his father 
was made Earl of Chatham, he exclaimed : " I am glad that 
I am not the eldest son. I want to speak in the House of 
Commons like papa." Pitt, when a young man, paid but 
little attention to English literature. He was unacquainted 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 109 



with any living language except French, and that he knew 
imperfectly. He was intimate, however, with a few of the 
best English writers, particularly with Shakespeare and 
Milton. 

The debate in Pandemonium was one of his favourite 
passages, and his early friends used to speak of the just 
emphasis and melodious cadence with which they had heard 
him recite the incomparable speech of Belial. 

Pitt had been trained by his father from infancy in the 
art of managing his voice, which was naturally clear and 
deep-toned. The wits of Brooke's, at a later period, irri- 
tated by observing, night after night, how powerfully Pitt's 
fascinating elocution affected the rows of country gentle- 
men, reproached him with having been " taught by his dad 
on a stool." 

Pitt's education was well adapted to form a great parlia- 
mentary orator. His classical studies, from the way he 
carried them on, had the effect of greatly enriching his 
English vocabulary, and of making him wonderfully expert 
in the difficulty of constructing strikingly beautiful and 
correct English sentences. 

It was his practice " to look over a page or two of a Greek 
or Latin author, to make himself master of the meaning, 
and then to read the passage straightforward into his own 
language. It is not strange that a young man of great 
abilities, should soon become an accomplished speaker by 
following this course." 

" Of all the remains of antiquity, the orations were those 
on which he bestowed the most minute examination. His 
favourite employment was to compare harangues on opposite 
sides of the same question, to analyse them, and to observe 
which of the arguments of the first speaker were refuted by 
the second, which were evaded, and which were left un- 
touched. Nor was it only in books that he at this time 
studied the art of parliamentary fencing. When he was at 
home, he had frequent opportunities of hearing important 
debates at Westminister; and he heard them not only with 
interest and enjoyment, but with a close scientific attention 



110 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



resembling that with which a diligent pupil at Guy's Hos- 
pital watches every turn of the hand of a great surgeon 
through a difficult operation." (Enc. Brit., Art. " Pitt.") 

" If from the statesman we turn to the orator, Pitt is to be 
placed, without any doubt, in the highest class. With a 
sparing use of ornament, hardly indulging more in figures, 
or even in figurative expression, than the most severe ex- 
amples of ancient chasteness allowed — with little variety of 
style, hardly any graces of manner — he no sooner rose than 
he carried away every hearer, and kept the attention fixed 
and unflagging till it pleased him to let it go ; and then 

" ' So charming left his voice, that we, awhile, 

Still thought him speaking ; still stood fixed to hear.' 

This magical effect was produced by his unbroken flow, 
which never for a moment left the hearer in pain or doubt, 
and yet was not the mean fluency of mere relaxation, 
requiring no effort of the speaker, but imposing on the 
listener a heavy task ; by his lucid arrangement, which made 
all parts of the most complicated subject quit their entangle- 
ment, and fall each into its place ; by the clearness of his 
statements, which presented at once a picture to the mind ; 
by the forcible appeals to strict reason and strong feeling, 
which formed the great staple of the discourse ; by the 
majesty of the diction ; by the depth and fulness of the 
most sonorous voice, and the unbending dignity of the 
manner, which ever reminded us that we were in the pres- 
ence of more than an advocate or debater — that there stood 
before us a ruler of the people. Such were invariably the 
effects of this singular eloquence, and they were as certainly 
on ordinary occasions, as in those grander displays when he 
rose to the height of some great argument, or indulged in 
vehement invective against some individual, and variegated 
his speech with that sarcasm of which he was so great a 
master, and indeed so little sparing an employer,— although, 
even here all was uniform and consistent, nor did anything, 
in any mood of mind, ever drop from him that was unsuited 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 1 1 



to the majestic frame of the whole, or could disturb the 
serenity of the full and copious flood rolled along." 

The subjoined remarks were made by Mr. Pitt in reference 
to a resolution declaring that immediate measures ought 
to be adopted for concluding peace with the American 
colonies : 

" Gentlemen have passed the highest eulogiums on the 
American war. Its justice has been denied in the most 
fervent manner. A noble lord, in the heat of his zeal, has 
called it a holy war. For my part, although the honourable 
gentleman who made this motion, and some other gentle- 
men, have been, more than once, in the course of the debate, 
severely reprehended for calling it a wicked and accursed 
war, I am persuaded, and would affirm, that it was a most 
accursed, wicked, barbarous, cruel, unnatural, unjust, and 
diabolical war ! It was conceived in injustice ; it was nur- 
tured and brought forth in folly ; its footsteps were marked 
with blood, slaughter, persecution, and devastation ; — in 
truth, everything which went to constitute moral depravity 
and human turpitude were to be found in it. It was preg- 
nant with misery of every kind. 

" The mischief, however, recoiled on the unhappy people 
of this country, who were made the instruments by which 
the wicked purposes of the authors of the war were effected. 
The nation was drained of its best blood, and of its vital re- 
sources of men and money. The expense of the war was 
enormous, — much beyond any former experience. And yet, 
what has the British nation received in return ? Nothing 
but a series of ineffective victories, or severe defeats ; — vic- 
tories celebrated only by a temporary triumph over our 
brethren, whom we would trample down and destroy ; vic- 
tories, which filled the land with mourning for the loss of 
dear and valued relatives, slain in the impious cause of 
enforcing unconditional submission, or with narratives of the 
glorious exertions of men struggling in the holy cause of 
liberty, though struggling in the absence of all the facilities 
and advantages which are in general deemed the necessary 
concomitants of victory and success. Where was the Eng- 



112 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



lishman, who, on reading the narratives of those bloody and 
well-fought contests, could refrain from lamenting the loss 
of so much British blood spilt in such a cause ; or from 
weeping, on whatever side victory might be declared ? " 

Certain resolutions were passed by the house in 1784 for 
the removal of his Majesty's ministers, at the head of whom 
was Mr. Pitt. These resolutions, however, his Majesty had 
not thought proper to comply with. A reference having 
been made to them, Mr. Pitt spoke as follows, replying to 
Mr. Fox : 

" Can anything that I have said, Mr. Speaker, subject me 
to be branded with the imputation of preferring my personal 
situation to the public happiness ? Sir, I have declared, 
again and again, only prove to me that there is any reason- 
able hope — show me but the most distant prospect — that 
my resignation will at all contribute to restore peace and 
happiness to the country, and I will instantly resign. But, 
sir, I declare, at the same time, I will not be induced to re- 
sign as a preliminary to negotiation. I will not abandon 
this situation, in order to throw myself upon the mercy of 
that right honourable gentleman. He calls me now a mere 
nominal minister, the mere puppet of secret influence. Sir, 
it is because I will not become a mere nominal minister of 
his creation, — it is because I disdain to become the puppet 
of that right honourable gentleman, — that I will not resign ; 
neither shall his contemptuous expressions provoke me to 
resignation : my own honour and reputation I never will 
resign. 

" Let this house beware of suffering any individual to in- 
volve his own cause, and to interweave his own interests, in 
the resolutions of the House of Commons. The dignity of 
the house is forever appealed to. Let us beware that it is 
not the dignity of any set of men. Let us beware that 
personal prejudices have no share in deciding these great 
constitutional questions. The right honourable gentleman 
is possessed of those enchanting arts whereby he can give 
grace to deformity. He holds before your eyes a beautiful 
and delusive image ; he pushes it forward to your observa- 



OR A TOR V IN ENGLAND. 1 1 3 



tion ; but, as sure as you embrace it, the pleasing vision will 
vanish, and this fair phantom of liberty will be succeeded by 
anarchy, confusion, and ruin to the constitution. For, in 
truth, sir, if the constitutional independence of the crown is 
thus reduced to the very verge of annihilation, where is the 
boasted equipoise of the Constitution ? Dreadful, therefore, 
as the conflict is, my conscience, my duty, my fixed regard 
for the Constitution of our ancestors, maintain me still in 
this arduous situation. It is not any proud contempt, or 
defiance of the constitutional resolutions of this house, — it 
is no personal point of honour, — much less is it any lust of 
power, that makes me still cling to office. The situation of 
the times requires of me — and, I will add, the country calls 
aloud to me — that I should defend this castle ; and I am de- 
termined, therefore, I WILL defend it ! " 

Pitt's speech on the war in 1803 is supposed to have ex- 
celled all his other speeches in " vehement and spirit-stirring 
declamation." Mr. Fox, in his reply, said : " The orators of 
antiquity would have admired, probably would have envied, 
it." 

Probably his finest speech is that upon the peace of 1783 
and the coalition, " when he so happily closed his magnifi- 
cent peroration by that noble yet simple figure " : "And if 
this inauspicious union be not already consummated, in the 
name of my country I forbid the banns." 

" But," says an able critic, " all authorities agree in placing 
his speech on the slave trade, in 1791, before any other effort of 
his genius ; because it combined, with the most impassioned 
declamation, the deepest pathos, the most lively imagination, 
and the closest reasoning." Fox is said to have listened to 
this speech with the greatest interest. Sheridan praised it 
highly, and Mr. Windham said that he " walked home lost 
in amazement at the compass, till then unknown to him, of 
human eloquence." 

As a parliamentary orator Mr. Pitt's powers were various. 
In statement he was perspicuous, in declamation animated. 
If he had to explain a financial account he was clear and 
accurate. If he wanted to rouse a just indignation for the 



114 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



wrongs of the country he was rapid, vehement, glowing, and 
impassioned. And whether his discourse was argumentative 
or declamatory, it always displayed a happy choice of expres- 
sion and a fluency of diction, which could not fail to delight 
his hearers. So singularly select, felicitous, and appropriate 
was his language that, it has often been remarked, a word of 
his speech could scarcely be changed without prejudice to its 
harmony, vigour, or effect. He seldom was satisfied with 
standing on the defensive in debate ; but was proud to con- 
trast his own actions with the avowed intentions of his 
opponents. These intentions, too, he often exposed with 
the most pointed sarcasm ; a weapon which, perhaps, no 
speaker wielded with more dexterity and force than himself. 

" Of his eloquence, it may be observed generally, that it 
combined the eloquence of Tully with the energy of 
Demosthenes. It was spontaneous ; always great, it shone 
with peculiar, with unequalled splendour, in a reply, which 
precluded the possibility of previous study ; while it fasci- 
nated the imagination by the brilliancy of language, it con- 
vinced the judgment by the force of argument, — like an 
impetuous torrent, it bore down all resistance, extorting the 
admiration even of those who most severely felt its strength, 
and who most earnestly deprecated its effect. It is unneces- 
sary, and might be presumptuous to enter more minutely 
into the character of Mr. Pitt's eloquence ; — there are many 
living witnesses of its power — it will be admired as long as 
it shall be remembered. " 

The sketch of Mr. Pitt by his political associate and 
ardent admirer, Mr. Canning, is interesting: 

" The character of this illustrious statesman early passed 
its ordeal. Scarcely had he attained the age at which reflec- 
tion' commences, when Europe with astonishment beheld 
him filling the first place in the councils of his country, and 
managing the vast mass of its concerns with all the vigour 
and steadiness of the most matured wisdom. Dignity — 
strength — discretion, — these were among the masterly quali- 
ties of his mind at its first dawn. He had been nurtured a 
statesman, and his knowledge was of that kind which always 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 1 5 



lay ready for application. Not dealing in the subtleties of 
abstract politics, but moving in the slow, steady procession 
of reason, his conceptions were reflective, and his views cor- 
rect. Habitually attentive to the concerns of government, 
he spared no pains to acquaint himself with whatever was 
connected, however minutely, with its prosperity. He was 
devoted to the state. Its interests engrossed all his study 
and engaged all his care. It was the element alone in which 
he seemed to live and move. He allowed himself but little 
recreation from his labours. His mind was always on its sta- 
tion, and its activity was unremitted. 

" He did not hastily adopt a measure nor hastily abandon 
it. - The plan struck out by him for the preservation of 
Europe was the result of prophetic wisdom and pro- 
found policy. But, though defeated in- many respects 
by the selfish ambition and short-sighted imbecility of 
foreign powers — whose rulers were too venal or too weak 
to follow the flight of that mind which would have taught 
them to outwing the storm — the policy involved in it has 
still a secret operation on the conduct of surrounding states. 
His plans were full of energy, and the principles which 
inspired them looked beyond the consequences of the hour. 

" He knew nothing of that timid and wavering cast of 
mind which dares not abide by its own decision. He never 
suffered popular prejudice or party clamour to turn him 
aside from any measure which his deliberate judgment had 
adopted. He had a proud reliance on himself, and it was 
justified. Like the sturdy warrior leaning on his own battle- 
axe, conscious where his strength lay, he did not readily 
look beyond it. 

"Asa debater in the House of Commons, his speeches 
were logical and argumentative. If they did not often 
abound in the graces of metaphor, or sparkle with the bril- 
liancy of wit, they were always animated, elegant, and classi- 
cal. The strength of his oratory was intrinsic ; it presented 
the rich and abundant resource of a clear discernment and a 
correct taste. His speeches are stamped with inimitable 
marks of originality. When replying to his opponents, 



Il6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



his readiness was not more conspicuous than his energy. 
He was always prompt and always dignified. He could 
sometimes have recourse to thesportiveness of irony, but he 
did not often seek any other aid than was to be derived from 
an arranged and extensive knowledge of his subject. This 
qualified him fully to discuss the arguments of others, and 
forcibly to defend his own. Thus armed, it was rarely in 
the power of his adversaries, mighty as they were, to beat 
him from the field. His eloquence occasionally rapid, 
electric, and vehement, was always chaste, winning, and 
persuasive — not awing into acquiescence, but arguing into 
conviction. His understanding was bold and comprehensive. 
Nothing seemed too remote for its reach or too large for its 
grasp. 

" Unallured by dissipation and unswayed by pleasure, he 
never sacrificed the national duty to the one or the national 
interest to the other. To his unswerving integrity the most 
authentic of all testimony is to be found in that unbounded 
public confidence which followed him throughout the whole 
of his political career. 

' " Absorbed as he was in the pursuits of public life, he did 
not neglect to prepare himself in silence for that higher des- 
tination, which is at once the incentive and the reward of 
human virtue. His talents, superior and splendid as they 
were, never made him forgetful of that Eternal Wisdom 
from which they emanated. The faith and fortitude of his 
last moments were affecting and exemplary." 

The following observations on the style of Fox and Pitt 
are interesting and instructive: 

" Mr. Burke may be 'said to have belonged to a Triumvi- 
rate of eloquence — the greatest, unquestionably, that ever 
divided among them the empire of mind. Mr. Fox though 
a much younger man, entered on his parliamentary career, 
nearly at the same time with Burke. For a while he was 
willing to rank as his disciple and follower ; but in a few 
years his growing abilities — his great skill in debate — the 
charm of his disposition and manners — and his superior 
political connections, gave him the ascendancy, and made 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. I \J 



him the acknowledged leader of the opposition ranks. When 
some twelve years later the youthful Pitt appeared upon the 
scene, he found those great men in full possession of the 
stage. The ease and suddenness with which he vaulted to 
the first place of honour and power is well known. That he 
should succeed against such competition, was the strongest 
proof of talent he could give. At the age of twenty-three 
years, he had vanquished an opposing majority in the House 
of Commons, led by Fox, Sheridan, and Burke — had won 
the nation to his side — and was wielding the destinies of 
the British Empire. 

" The oratory of Fox and Pitt was very unlike that of the 
great Triumvir already described. Their scene of glory was 
the arena of debate. Theirs was the skill and power acquired 
by the breaking of lances, by the parrying and giving of 
blows, in many a 'passage of arms'. More dexterous or 
powerful combatants never engaged in political warfare : a 
warfare maintained by them with scarce an intermission, for 
more than twenty years. The question of their comparative 
greatness it would be difficult to settle, but we can easily 
perceive that they were very unlike. Fox was persuasive, 
impetuous, powerful. To strong argument, and vehement 
appeal, he could add the lighter but often more effective 
weapons of ridicule and wit. Before his rushing charge, 
nothing for the moment could stand. But he was often 
incautious, and generally lacked that higher power, which is 
necessary to turn even victory to account. His antagonist 
had far more dignity, vigilance, and prudence. He could 
never be thrown from his guard. He was lofty and fluent, 
but not impassioned ; sarcastic, but not witty. The conflict 
of these rival statesmen was often that of Roderick Dhu and 
Snowdon's Knight. The giant strength and fiery valor of 
the highland chief are wasted on the air. But ' Fitz James's 
blade is sword and shield.' Even the personal qualities of 
the two men influenced, probably in some degree, the judg- 
ments which were formed of their eloquence. Who can doubt 
that Mr. Fox would have been even more admired, and 
trusted, and beloved, if to his winning manners and bril- 



Il8 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



liant powers he had added the virtuous circumspection of 
his illustrious rival?" 

In private life Pitt's integrity was without a stain. He 
was exceedingly amiable ; " his spirits were naturally buoy- 
ant and even playful," his affections were warm, his veracity 
never questioned. 

Fox. — Charles James Fox, if not the greatest orator, was 
the most accomplished debater that ever appeared upon the 
theatre of public affairs in any age or country. 

He was unacquainted with even the rudiments of meta- 
physical philosophy, natural science, or political economy. 
His acquaintance, however, with the Greek and Latin clas- 
sics was intimate. His knowledge of general history was 
not very extensive, but his knowledge of the history of 
England and of other modern states was accurate and pro- 
found, and it is said that no politician in any age ever knew 
so perfectly the various interests and the exact position of 
all the countries with which England had dealings to con- 
duct or relations to maintain. His knowledge of modern 
languages was minute. 

Fox was largely indebted to his charming social qualities, 
his amiable disposition, sweetness of temper, sunny humour, 
and generous, open, manly nature for his popularity. 

He abhorred duplicity or dissimulation, and was the 
uncompromising enemy of corruption in all its forms. 

He determined at an early age to excel as a parliamentary 
speaker, and he was untiring in his efforts to accomplish his 
purpose. He said on one occasion : " During five whole 
sessions I spoke every night but one ; and I reget that I did 
not speak on that night too." 

Fox was very careless in his dress. 

Directly after he heard him in the House of Commons, 
Horace Walpole said of him : " Fox's abilities are amazing 
at so very early a period, especially under the circumstances 
of such a dissolute life. He was just arrived from New- 
market and had sat up drinking all night, and had not 
been in bed. How such talents make one laugh at Tully's 
rules for an orator, and his indefatigable application ! His 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 19 



laboured orations are puerile in comparison to this boy's 
manly reason." 

From the speech of Mr. Fox in 1797 on "Parliamentary 
Reform," the following passage upon the progress of liberty 
will be found interesting : 

" Liberty is order. Liberty is strength. Look round the 
world, and admire, as ) t ou must, the instructive spectacle. 
You will see that liberty not only is power and order, but 
that it is power and order predominant and invincible, — 
that it derides all other sources of strength. And shall the 
preposterous imagination be fostered, that men bred in 
liberty, — the first of human kind who asserted the glorious 
distinction of forming for themselves their social compact, — 
can be condemned to silence upon their rights? Is it to be 
conceived that men who have enjoyed, for such a length of 
<lays, the light and happiness of freedom, can be restrained, 
and shut up again in the gloom of ignorance and degrada- 
tion ? As well might you try, by a miserable dam, to shut 
up the flowing of a rapid river ! The rolling and impetuous 
tide would burst through every impediment that man might 
throw in its way ; and the only consequence of the impotent 
attempt would be that, having collected new force by its 
temporary suspension, enforcing itself through new channels, 
it would spread devastation and ruin on every side. The 
progress of liberty is like the progress of the stream. Kept 
within its bounds, it is sure to fertilise the country through 
which it runs ; but no power can arrest it in its passage ; 
and short-sighted, as well as wicked, must be the heart of 
the projector that would strive to divert its course." 

Mr. Fox was always a warm friend of America. In 1778, 
lie said in parliament among other things in regard to the 
American motive to war : 

" Every blow you strike in America is against yourselves ; 
it is against all idea of reconciliation, and against your own 
interest, though you should be able, as you never will be, to 
force them to submit. Every stroke against France is of 
advantage to you : America must be conquered in France ; 
France never can be conquered in America. 



120 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" The war of the Americans is a Avar of passion ; it is of 
such a nature as to be supported by the most powerful vir- 
tues, love of liberty and of their country; and, at the same 
time, by those passions in the human heart which give 
courage, strength, and perseverance to man ; the spirit of 
revenge for the injuries you have done them; of retaliation 
for the hardships you have inflicted on them ; and of oppo- 
sition to the unjust powers you have exercised over them. 
Everything combines to animate them to this war, and such 
a war is without end ; for whatever obstinacy enthusiasm 
ever inspired man with, you will now find in America. No 
matter what gives birth to that enthusiasm ; whether the 
name of religion or of liberty, the effects are the same ; it 
inspires a spirit which is unconquerable, and solicitous to 
undergo difficulty, danger, and hardship : and as long as 
there is a man in America, a being formed such as we are, 
you will have him present himself against you in the field." 

In 1780, speaking of the results of the American war, Mr. 
Fox said : 

" We are charged with expressing joy at the triumphs of 
America. True it is that, in a former session, I proclaimed 
it as my sincere opinion, that if the Ministry had succeeded 
in their first scheme on the liberties of America, the liberties 
of this country would have been at an end. Thinking this, 
as I did, in the sincerity of an honest heart, I rejoiced at the 
resistance which the ministry had met to their attempt. 
That great and glorious statesman, the late Earl of Chatham, 
feeling for the liberties of his native country, thanked God 
that America had resisted. But, it seems, l all the calamities 
of the country are to be ascribed to the wishes, and the joy, 
and the speeches, of opposition.' O miserable and unfor- 
tunate ministry ! blind and incapable men ! whose 
measures are framed with so little foresight, and executed 
with so little firmness, that they not only crumble to pieces, 
but bring on the ruin of their country, merely because one 
rash, weak, or wicked man, in the House of Commons, makes 
a speech against them ! 

" But who is he who arraigns gentlemen on this side of 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 2 1 



the house with causing, by their inflammatory speeches, the 
misfortunes of their country ? The accusation comes from 
one whose inflammatory harangues have led the nation, step 
by step, from violence to violence, in that inhuman, unfeeling 
system of blood and massacre, which every honest man must 
detest, which every good man must abhor, and every wise 
man condemn ! And this man imputes the guilt of such meas- 
ures to those who had all along foretold the consequences ; 
who had prayed, entreated, and supplicated, not only for 
America, but for the credit of the nation and its eventual 
welfare, to arrest the hand of power, meditating slaughter, 
and directed by injustice ! 

" What was the consequence of the sanguinary measures 
recommended in those bloody, inflammatory speeches? 
Though Boston was to be starved, though Hancock and 
Adams were proscribed, yet at the feet of these very men the 
Parliament of Great Britain was obliged to kneel, flatter, and 
cringe ; and, as it had the cruelty at one time to denounce 
vengeance against these men, so it had the meanness after- 
wards to implore their forgiveness. Shall he who called the 
Americans ' Hancock and his crew,' — shall he presume to 
reprehend any set of men for inflammatory speeches ? It is 
this accursed American war that has led us, step by step, 
into all our present misfortunes and national disgraces. 
What was the cause of our wasting forty millions of money, 
and sixty thousand lives ? The Ameriean war ! What was 
it that produced the French rescript and a French war? 
The American war ! What was it that produced the Span- 
ish manifesto and Spanish war ? The American war ! What 
was it that armed forty-two thousand men in Ireland with 
the arguments carried on the points of forty thousand bayo- 
nets ? The American war ! For what are we about to incur 
an additional debt of twelve or fourteen millions? This ac- 
cursed, cruel, diabolical American war ! " 

In 1797, speaking of the vigour of democratic govern- 
ments, Mr. Fox said : 

" When we look at the democracies of the ancient world, 
we are compelled to acknowledge their oppressions to their 



122 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



dependencies ; their horrible acts of injustice and of ingrati- 
tude to their own citizens ; but they compel us, also, to 
admiration, by their vigour, their constancy, their spirit, and 
their exertions, in every great emergency in which they were 
called upon to act. We are compelled to own that the 
democratic form of government gives a power of which no 
other form is capable. Why? Because it incorporates 
every man with the state. Because it arouses everything 
that belongs to the soul, as well as to the body, of man. 
Because it makes every individual feel that he is fighting for 
himself ; that it is his own cause, his own safety, his own 
dignity, on the face of the earth, that he is asserting. Who, 
that reads the history of the Persian War — what boy, whose 
heart is warmed by the grand and sublime actions which the 
democratic spirit produced, — does not find, in this principle, 
the key to all the wonders which were achieved at Thermo- 
pylae and elsewhere, and of which the recent and marvellous 
acts of the French people are pregnant examples ? Without 
disguising the vices of France, — without overlooking the hor- 
rors that have been committed, and that have tarnished the 
glory of the Revolution, — it cannot be denied that they have 
exemplified the doctrine, that, if you wish for power, you 
must look to liberty. If ever there was a moment when this 
maxim ought to be dear to us, it is the present. We have 
tried all other means. We have addressed ourselves to all 
the base passions of the people. We have tried to terrify 
them into exertion ; and all has been unequal to our emer- 
gency. Let us try them by the only means which experience 
demonstrates to be invincible. Let us address ourselves to 
their love ! Let us identify them with ourselves ! — let us 
make it their own cause, as well as ours ! " 

A great deal has been said and written of Mr. Fox's 
oratory. From all accounts of it, in order to comprehend 
and appreciate it, the orator himself must have been heard. 

When Mr. Fox became deeply engaged in his subject he 
was earnest, pathetic, and impetuous, as the occasion de- 
manded. At times his tones were so thrilling and so sweet 
that every heart was subdued. Simplicity and vehemence 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 23 



were two of the most prominent traits in his character as 
an orator. Mr. Goodwin says : " I have seen his countenance 
lighten up with more than mortal ardour and goodness; 
I have been present when his voice was suffocated with 
tears." 

Coleridge says : " His feeling was all intellect, and his 
intellect all feeling." 

Says Sir James Mackintosh : " To speak of him justly as an 
orator would require a long essay. Everywhere natural, he 
carried into public something of that simple and negligent 
exterior which belonged to him in private. When he began 
to speak, a common observer might have thought him awk- 
ward ; and even a consummate judge could only have been 
struck with the exquisite justness of his ideas, and the trans- 
parent simplicity of his manners. But no sooner had he 
spoken for some time, than he was changed into another 
being. He forgot himself and everything around him. He 
thought only of his subject. His genius warmed and 
kindled as he went on. He darted fire into his audience. 
Torrents of impetuous and irresistible eloquence swept along 
their feelings and conviction. He certainly possessed above 
all moderns, that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence 
which formed the prince of orators. He was the most De- 
mosthenean speaker since Demosthenes." 

Lord Brougham in contradiction to this last sentence 
remarks : 

" There never was a greater mistake, than the fancying a 
close resemblance between his eloquence and that of De- 
mosthenes; although an excellent judge (Sir James Mack- 
intosh) fell into it when he pronounced him the most 
Demosthenean speaker since Demosthenes. That he re- 
sembled his immortal predecessor in despising all useless 
ornament, and all declamation for declamation's sake, is true 
enough ; but it applies to every good speaker as well as to 
those two signal ornaments of ancient and modern rhetoric. 
That he resembled him in keeping more close to the subject 
in hand than many good and even great speakers have often 
done, may also be affirmed ; yet this is far too vague and 



124 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



remote a likeness to justify the proposition in question ; and 
it is only a difference in degree, and not a specific distinction 
between him and others. That his eloquence was fervid, 
rapid, copious, carrying along with it the minds of the 
audience, not suffering them to dwell upon the speaker or 
the speech, but engrossing their whole attention, and keep- 
ing it fixed on the question, is equally certain, and is the 
only real resemblance which the comparison affords. But 
then the points of difference are as numerous as they are 
important, and they strike indeed upon the most cursory 
glance. The one was full of repetitions, recurring again and 
again to the same topic, nay to the same view of it, till he 
had made his impression complete ; the other never came 
back upon a ground which he had utterly wasted and with- 
ered up by the tide of fire he had rolled over it. The one 
dwelt at length, and with many words, on his topics; the 
other performed the whole at a blow, sometimes with a word, 
always with the smallest number of words possible. The one 
frequently was digressive, even narrative and copious in illus- 
tration ; in the other no deviation from his course was ever 
to be perceived ; no disporting on the borders of his way, 
more than any lingering upon it ; but carried rapidly forward, 
and without swerving to the right or to the left, like the en- 
gines flying along a railway, and like them driving every- 
thing out of sight that obstructed his resistless course." 

Professor Goodrich, after quoting the conflicting remarks 
of Brougham and Mackintosh, adds : 

" When two such men differ on a point like this, we may 
safely say that both are in the right and in the wrong. As 
to certain qualities, Fox was the very reverse of the great 
Athenian ; as to others they had much in common. In 
whatever relates to the forms of oratory — symmetry, dignity, 
grace, the working up of thought and language to their most 
perfect expression, — Mr. Fox was not only inferior to De- 
mosthenes, but wholly unlike him, having no rhetoric and 
no ideality ; while, at the same time, in the structure of his 
understanding, the modes of its operation, the soul and 
spirit which breathe throughout his eloquence, there was a 



OR A TOR Y I IV ENGLA ND. 1 2 5 



striking resemblance. This will appear as we dwell for a 
moment on his leading peculiarities. 

"(1) He had a luminous simplicity, which gave his 
speeches the most absolute unity of impression, however 
irregular might be their arrangement. No man ever kept 
the great points of his case more steadily and vividly before 
the minds of his audience. 

" (2) He took everything in the concrete. If he dis- 
cussed principles, it was always in direct connection with 
the subject before him. Usually, however, he did not even 
discuss a subject — he grappled with an antagonist. Noth- 
ing gives such life and interest to a speech, or so delights an 
audience, as a direct contest of man with man. 

"(3) He struck instantly at the heart of his subject. He 
was eager to meet his opponent at once on the real points 
at issue ; and the moment of his greatest power was 
when he stated the argument against himself, with more 
force than his adversary or any other man could give it, and 
then seized it with the hand of a giant, tore it to pieces, and 
trampled it under foot. 

" (4) His mode of enforcing a subject on the minds of his 
audience was to come back again and again to the strong 
points of his case. Mr. Pitt amplified when he wished to im- 
press ; Mr. Fox repeated. Demosthenes also repeated, but 
he had more adroitness in varying the mode of doing it. 

"(5) He had rarely any preconceived method or arrange- 
ment of his thoughts. This was one of his greatest faults, 
in which he differed most from the Athenian artist. If it 
had not been for the unity of impression and feeling men- 
tioned above, his strength would have been wasted in discon- 
nected efforts. 

" (6) Reasoning was his forte and his passion. But he 
was not a regular reasoner. In his eagerness to press for- 
ward, he threw away everything he could part with, and 
compacted the rest into a single mass. Facts, principles, 
analogies, were all wrought together like the strands of a 
cable, and intermingled with wit, ridicule, or impassioned 
feeling. His arguments were usually personal in their 



126 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



nature, ad homincm, etc., and were brought home to his an- 
tagonist with stinging severity and force. 

" (7) He abounded in hits — those abrupt and startling 
turns of thought which rouse an audience and give them 
more delight than the loftiest strains of eloquence. 

" (8) He was equally distinguished for his side blows, for 
keen and pungent remarks flashed out upon his antagonist 
in passing as he pressed on with his argument. 

"(9) He was often dramatic, personating the character 
of his opponents or others, and carrying on a dialogue be- 
tween them, which added greatly to the liveliness and 
force of his oratory. 

" (10) He had astonishing dexterity in evading difficul- 
ties, and turning to his own advantage everything that oc- 
curred in debate. 

" In nearly all these qualities he had a close resemblance 
to Demosthenes. 

" In his language Mr. Fox studied simplicity, strength, and 
boldness. ' Give me an elegant Latin and a homely Saxon 
word/ said he, ' and I will always choose the latter.' Another 
of his sayings was this. ' Did the speech read well when 
reported ? If so it was a bad one.' These two remarks give 
us the secret of his style as an orator. 

" The life of Mr. Fox has this lesson for young men, that 
early habits of recklessness and vice can hardly fail to destroy 
the influence of the most splendid abilities and the most 
humane and generous dispositions." 

Burke. — Although men may differ as to the soundness of 
Mr. Burke's doctrines, or the purity of his public conduct, there 
can be no doubt that he was one of the most remarkable per- 
sons that has ever lived. He possessed a fund of knowledge 
that was extensive, and of the most various description. He 
was /well acquainted with human nature. His vast store of 
information was always available for the purpose of illus- 
trating his subject or enriching his diction. Consequently 
his speeches and writings show that he was a great reasoner 
and a great teacher, to whom all branches of knowledge were 
familiar. 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 2J 



One of Burke's critics, after saying that he was a writer of 
the first class, and excelled in almost every kind of prose 
composition, continued as follows: "The kinds of com- 
position are various and he excels in them all, with the ex- 
ception of two, the very highest, given but to few, and when 
given, almost always possessed alone — fierce, nervous, over- 
whelming declamation, and close, rapid argument. Every 
other he uses easily, abundantly, and successfully. . . . 

" As in the various kinds of writing, so in the different 
styles, he had an almost universal excellence, one only being 
deficient — the plain and unadorned." 

Mr. Burke fully entered on his political career in 1765, 
when he obtained a seat in parliament as member for Wen- 
dover. He entered parliament at an eventful period in 
English history — when American taxation was the most 
important topic under discussion. 

In January, 1766, Mr. Burke made his maiden speech on 
the Stamp Act. It was one of great power and eloquence, 
and was completely successful, and it placed him at once 
among the greatest orators of the age. Dr. Johnson said 
that probably no man at his first appearance ever obtained 
so much reputation before. Lord Chatham, who followed 
in a speech on the same subject, commenced by saying, that 
the young member had proved a very able advocate. He 
had himself intended to enter at length into the details, but 
he had been anticipated with such ingenuity and eloquence, 
that there was but little left for him to say. He congratu- 
lated him on his success, and his friends on the value of the 
acquisition they had made. Such an encomium from Lord 
Chatham gave Burke at once a high reputation in the House 
of Commons. 

The three great subjects to which Mr. Burke gave greatest 
attention in the house were those relating to America, 
India, and France. 

Notwithstanding the fact that his delivery was so poor — 
being ungraceful and inelegant in the highest degree — Mr. 
Burke is ranked among the greatest English orators. One 
writer says : " The variety and extent of his powers in de- 



128 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



bate was greater than that of any other orator in ancient or 
modern times. No one ever poured forth such a flood of 
thought ; so many original combinations of inventive genius ; 
so much knowledge of man and the working of political sys- 
tems ; so many just remarks on the relation of government 
to the manners, the spirit, and even the prejudices of a 
people ; so many wise maxims as to a change in constitution 
and laws ; so many beautiful effusions of lofty and generous 
sentiments ; such exuberant stores of illustration, ornament, 
and apt allusion ; all intermingled with the liveliest sallies of 
wit or the boldest flights of a sublime imagination." 

Mr. Goodrich says : " As an orator Burke derived little or 
no advantage from his personal qualifications. He was tall, 
but not robust; his gait and gesture were awkward; his 
countenance, though intellectual, was destitute of softness, 
and rarely relaxed into a smile ; and as he always wore 
spectacles, his eye gave him no command over an audience." 

Undoubtedly, the extent of Mr. Burke's knowledge, the 
beauty of his imagery, the richness, variety, and brilliancy 
of his oratory, were wonderful. 

Sir N. W. Wraxall, a parliamentary contemporary, thus 
writes of him : 

" Nature had bestowed on him a boundless imagination, 
aided by a memory of equal strength and tenacity. His 
fancy was so vivid, that it seemed to light up by its own 
powers, and to burn without consuming the element on 
which it fed ; sometimes bearing him away into ideal scenes 
created by his own exuberant mind, but from which he, 
sooner or later, returned to the subject of debate ; descend- 
ing from his most aerial flights by a gentle and impercepti- 
ble gradation, till he again touched the ground. Learning 
waited on him like a handmaid, presenting to his choice all 
that antiquity has culled or invented, most elucidatory of 
the topic under discussion. He always seemed to be op- 
pressed under the load and variety of his intellectual treas- 
ures. Every power of oratory was wielded by him in turn ; 
for he could be during the same evening, often within the 
space of a few minutes, pathetic and humorous ; acrimoni- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 29 



ous and conciliating; now giving loose to his indignation or 
severity ; and then, almost in the same breath, calling to his 
assistance wit and ridicule. It would be endless to cite in- 
stances of this versatility of disposition, and of the rapidity 
of his transitions 

* From grave to gay, from lively to severe,' 

that I have myself witnessed." 

Edward Burke, in his person, was about five feet ten 
inches high, erect and well-formed. His countenance was 
frank and open, and, except by an occasional bend of his 
brow, caused by his being near-sighted, indicated none of 
those great traits of mind, which he was otherwise well known 
to possess. 

The richness of his mind illustrated every subject he spoke 
or wrote upon. In conversing with him he attracted by his 
novelty, variety, and research ; in parting from him, strangers 
and friends alike involuntarily exclaimed : " What an extra- 
ordinary man." As an orator, though not so grand and 
commanding in his manner as Lord Chatham, yet he had ex- 
cellencies that gave him great influence in the senate. His 
prolixity and irritability, however, lessened his usefulness. 

He was often interrupted while he spoke, and some mem- 
bers made a point of laughing, beating the ground with 
their feet, and even hooting. The dignity of conscious 
superiority ought to have rendered Burke indifferent to 
such disturbances. Instead of indifference, however, he fell 
into the most outrageous fits of passion, and once told them, 
that he could discipline a pack of hounds to yelp with much 
more melody and equal comprehension. 

Unaccustomed to dissipation, he devoted to reading and 
conversation those hours which were not employed in par- 
liamentary duty, in exercise, or in the discharge of the duties 
incident to private life. He generally read with a pen in his 
hand to make notes, though his memory was wonderfully 
retentive. 

As a writer he deserves a high rank, and judging him from 



130 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



his earliest to his latest productions, he must be considered 
as one of those prodigies which are sometimes given to the 
world to be admired, but cannot be imitated. He believed 
firmly in the Christian religion, and exercised its principles 
in its duties, wisely considering, " that whatever disunites 
man from God, disunites man from man." 

He looked within himself for the regulation of his con- 
duct, which was exemplary in all the relations of life ; he 
was warm in his affections, simple in his manners, and free 
from the follies and dissipations of the times in which he 
lived. 

Speaking on American affairs, but with special reference 
to magnanimity in politics, in 1775, Burke said: 

"A revenue for America, transmitted hither? Do not 
delude yourselves ! You never can receive it — no, not a 
shilling! Let the Colonies always keep the idea of their 
civil rights associated with your government, and they will 
cling and grapple to you. These are ties which, though 
light as air, are strong as links of iron. But let it once be 
understood that your government may be one thing and 
their privileges another, — the cement is gone, the cohesion 
is loosened ! Do not entertain so weak an imagination as 
that your registers and your bonds, your affidavits and your 
sufferances, your cockets and your clearances, are what 
form the great securities of your commerce. These things 
do not make your government. Dead instruments, passive 
tools, as they are, it is the spirit of the English communion 
that gives all their life and efficacy to them. It is the spirit 
of the English Constitution which, infused through the 
mighty mass, pervades, feeds, unites, invigorates, vivifies, 
every part of the Empire, even down to the minutest 
member. 

" Do you imagine that it is the land tax which raises your 
revenue ? that it is the annual vote in the committee of 
supply which gives you your army? or that it is the mutiny 
bill which inspires it with bravery and discipline ? No ! 
Surely no ! It is the love of the people ; it is their attach- 
ment to their government from the sense of the deep stake 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 131 



they have in such a glorious institution, which gives you 
your army and your navy, and infuses into both that liberal 
obedience, without which your army would be a base rabble, 
and your navy nothing but rotten timber. 

" All this, I know well enough, will sound wild and chi- 
merical to the profane herd of those vulgar and mechanical 
politicians, who have no place among us ; a sort of people 
who think that nothing exists but what is gross and material ; 
and who, therefore, far from being qualified to be directors 
of the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel 
in the machine. But, to men truly initiated and rightly 
taught, these ruling and master principles, which, in the 
opinion of such men as I have mentioned, have no substan- 
tial existence, are, in truth, everything, and all in all. 
Magnanimity in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom ; 
and a great empire and little minds go ill together. Let us 
get an American revenue, as we have got an American em- 
pire. English privileges have made it all that it is ; English 
privileges alone will make it all it can be ! " 

Referring to American taxation, Mr. Burke said : 
" Could anything be a subject of more just alarm to 
America, than to see you go out of the plain highroad of 
finance, and give up your most certain revenues and your 
clearest interests, merely for the sake of insulting your col- 
onies ? No man ever doubted that the commodity of tea 
could bear an imposition of three-pence. But no commodity 
will bear three-pence, or will bear a penny, when the general 
feelings of men are irritated, and two millions of men are 
resolved not to pay. The feelings of the colonies were 
formerly the feelings of Great Britain. Theirs were formerly 
the feelings of Mr. Hampden, when called upon for the pay- 
ment of twenty shillings. Would twenty shillings have 
ruined Mr. Hampden's fortune ? No ! but the payment of 
half twenty shillings, on the principle it was demanded, 
would have made him a slave ! It is the weight of that 
preamble, of which you are so fond, and not the weight of 
the duty, that the Americans are unable and unwilling to 
bear. You are, therefore, at this moment, in the awkward 



132 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



situation of fighting for a phantom ; a quiddity ; a thing 
that wants, not only a substance, but even a name ; for a 
thing which is neither abstract right, nor profitable enjoy- 
ment. 

" They tell you, sir, that your dignity is tied to it. I 
know not how it happens, but this dignity of yours is a 
terrible incumbrance to you ; for it has of late been ever at 
war with your interest, your equity, and every idea of your 
policy. Show the thing you contend for to be reason, show 
it to be common sense, show it to be the means of obtain- 
ing some useful end, and then I am content to allow it what 
dignity you please. But what dignity is derived from the 
perseverance in absurdity, is more than I ever could discern ! 
Let us, sir, embrace some system or other before we end 
this session. Do you mean to tax America, and to draw a 
protective revenue from thence? If you do, speak out: 
name, fix, ascertain this revenue ; settle its quantity ; define 
its objects ; provide for its collection ; and then fight, when 
you have something to fight for. If you murder, rob ; if 
you kill, take possession : and do not appear in the charac- 
ter of madmen, as well as assassins, — violent, vindictive, 
bloody, and tyrannical, without an object. But may better 
counsels guide you ! " 

Speaking of the incompatibility of despotism with right 
in the trial of Mr. Hastings, in 1788, Mr. Burke said : 

" My lords, you have now heard the principles on which 
Mr. Hastings governs the part of Asia subjected to the 
British Empire. Here he has declared his opinion, that he 
is a despotic prince ; that he is to use arbitrary power ; and, 
of course, all his acts are covered with that shield. ' I know, 
says he, ' the Constitution of Asia only from its practice/ 
Will your lordships submit to hear the corrupt practices of 
mankind made the principles of government ? He have 
arbitrary power! — My lords, the East-India Company have 
not arbitrary power to give him ; the king has no arbitrary 
power to give him ; your lordships have not ; nor the 
Commons ; nor the whole legislature. We have no arbi- 
trary power to give, because arbitrary power is a thing 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 33 



which neither any man can hold nor any man can give. 
No man can lawfully govern himself according to his own 
will, — much less can one person be governed by the will of 
another. We are all born in subjection, — all born equally, 
high and low, governors and governed, in subjection to one 
great, immutable, pre-existent law, prior to all our devices, 
and prior to all our contrivances, paramount to all our ideas 
and to all our sensations, antecedent to our very existence, 
by which we are knit and connected in the eternal frame of 
the universe, out of which we cannot stir. 

" This great law does not arise from our conventions or 
compacts ; on the contrary, it gives to our conventions and 
compacts all the force and sanction they can have ; — it does 
not arise from our vain institutions. Every good gift is of 
God ; all power is of God ; — and he who has given the 
power, and from whom alone it originates, will never suffer 
the exercise of it to be practised upon any less solid founda- 
tion than the power itself. If, then, all dominion of man 
over man is the effect of the divine disposition, it is bound 
by the eternal laws of him that gave it, with which no 
human authority can dispense ; neither he that exercises it, 
nor even those who are subject to it ; and, if they were mad 
enough to make an express compact, that should release 
their magistrate from his duty, and should declare their 
lives, liberties, properties, dependent upon, not rules and 
laws, but his mere capricious will, that covenant would be 
void. 

" This arbitrary power is not to be had by conquest. Nor 
can any sovereign have it by succession ; for no man can 
succeed to fraud, rapine, and violence. Those who give and 
those who receive arbitrary power are alike criminal ; and 
there is no man but is bound to resist it to the best of his 
power, wherever it shall show its face to the world. 

" Law and arbitrary power are in eternal enmity. Name 
me a magistrate, and I will name property ; name me power, 
and I will name protection. It is a contradiction in terms, 
it is blasphemy in religion, it is wickedness in politics, to say 
that any man can have arbitrary power. In every patent of 



134 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



office the duty is included. For what else does a magistrate 
exist ? To suppose for power, is an absurdity in idea. 
Judges are guided and governed by the eternal laws of jus- 
tice, to which we are all subject. We may bite our chains, 
if we will ; but we shall be made to know ourselves, and be 
taught that man is born to be governed by law ; and he that 
will substitute will in the place of it is an enemy to God." 

Mr. Burke said on the impeachment of Mr. Hastings, in 
part : 

" My lords, I do not mean now to go further than just 
to remind your lordships of this, — that Mr. Hastings's gov- 
ernment was one whole system of oppression, of robbery of 
individuals, of spoliation of the public, and of supersession 
of the whole system of the English government, in order 
to vest in the worst of the natives all the power that could 
possibly exist in any government ; in order to defeat the 
ends which all governments ought, in common, to have in 
view. In the name of the Commons of England, I charge 
all this villainy upon Warren Hastings, in this last moment 
of my application to you. 

" My lords, what is it that we want here, to a great act of 
national justice? Do we want a cause, my lords? You 
have the cause of oppressed princes, of undone women of the 
first rank, of desolated provinces, and of wasted kingdoms. 

" Do you want a criminal, my lords ? When was there so 
much iniquity ever laid to the charge of any one? — No, my 
Lords, you must not look to punish any other such delin- 
quent from India. Warren Hastings has not left substance 
enough in India to nourish such another delinquent. 

" My lords, is it a prosecutor you want ? You have before 
you the Commons of Great Britain as prosecutors ; and I 
believe, my lords, that the sun, in his beneficent progress 
round the world, does not behold a more glorious sight than 
that of men, separated from a remote people by the material 
bonds and barriers of nature, united by the bonds of a social 
and moral community ; — all the Commons of England re- 
senting, as their own, the indignities and cruelties that are 
offered to the people of India. 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 3 5 



" Do we want a tribunal ? My lords, no example of an- 
tiquity, nothing in the modern world, nothing in the range 
of human imagination, can supply us with a tribunal like 
this. We commit safely the interests of India and humanity 
into your hands. Therefore, it is with confidence that, 
ordered by the Commons, 

" I impeach Warren Hastings, Esquire, of high crimes and 
misdemeanours. 

" I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great 
Britain in parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust 
he has betrayed. 

u I impeach him in the name of all the Commons of Great 
Britain, whose national character he has dishonoured. 

" I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose 
laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted ; whose proper- 
ties he has destroyed ; whose country he has laid waste 
and desolate. 

" I impeach him in the name and by virtue of those eternal 
laws of justice which he has violated. 

" I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which 
he has cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both 
sexes, in every age, rank, situation, and condition of life." 

The peroration of Mr. Burke's speech against Hastings 
was as follows : 

" My lords, at this awful close, in the name of the Com- 
mons, and surrounded by them, I attest the retiring, I attest 
the advancing generations, between which, as a link in the 
great chain of eternal order, we stand. We call this nation, 
we call the world to witness, that the Commons have shrunk 
from no labour; that we have been guilty of no prevarica- 
tion ; that we have made no compromise with crime ; that 
we have not feared any odium whatsoever, in the long war- 
fare which we have carried on with the crimes, with the 
vices, with the exorbitant wealth, with the enormous and 
overpowering influence of Eastern corruption. 

" My lords, it has pleased Providence to place us in such 
a state that we appear every moment to be upon the verge 
of some great mutations. There is one thing, and one thing 



36 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



only, which defies all mutation : that which existed before 
the world, and will survive the fabric of the world itself, — 
I mean justice ; that justice which, emanating from the 
Divinity, has a place in the breast of every one of us, given 
us for our guide with regard to ourselves and with regard to 
others, and which will stand, after this globe is burned to 
ashes, our advocate or our accuser, before the great Judge, 
when He comes to call upon us for the tenor of a well-spent 
life. 

" My lords, the Commons will share in every fate with 
your lordships ; there is nothing sinister which can happen 
to you, in which we shall not all be involved ; and, if it 
should so happen that we shall be subjected to some of 
those frightful changes which we have seen, — if it should 
happen that your lordships, stripped of all the decorous dis- 
tinctions of human society, should, by hands at once base 
and cruel, be led to those scaffolds and machines of murder 
upon which great kings and glorious queens have shed their 
blood, amidst the prelates, amidst the nobles, amidst the 
magistrates, who supported their thrones, — may you in those 
moments feel that consolation which I am persuaded they 
felt in the critical moments of their dreadful agony ! 

" My lords, if you must fall, may you so fall ! but, if you 
stand, — and stand I trust you will, — together with the for- 
tune of this ancient monarchy, together with the ancient 
laws and liberties of this great and illustrious kingdom, may 
you stand as unimpeached in honour as in power ; may you 
stand, not as a substitute for virtue, but as an ornament of 
virtue, as a security of virtue ; may you stand long, and long 
stand the terror of tyrants ; may you stand the refuge of the 
afflicted nations ; may you stand a sacred temple, for the 
perpetual residence of an inviolable justice ! " 

Henry Grattan. — Henry Grattan was born at Dublin on 
the 3d of July, 1746. He entered Trinity College, Dublin, 
where he soon became noted for his diligence as a student, 
for the impetuosity of his feelings, and for the energy of his 
character. He graduated in 1767, with a high literary repu- 
tation, and soon after went to London and commenced the 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 37 



study of the law. He had not been there long before 
politics began to engage his attention. He frequently at- 
tended the debates in parliament, and became an ardent 
admirer of Lord Chatham — then in the zenith of his fame. 

The powerful oratory of this great statesman made a deep 
impression on the glowing mind of young Grattan, who 
listened with indescribable pleasure to those magnificent 
bursts of declamation which rolled from the lips of the 
orator. 

The eloquence of Chatham, bold, nervous, and fiery, was 
exactly suited to the nature of Grattan, upon whom it acted 
with such fascination as seemed completely to form his 
destiny. It is said that he now determined to become an 
orator and chose Lord Chatham as his model. " Everything 
was forgotten in the one great object of cultivating his 
powers as a public speaker. To emulate and express, 
through the peculiar forms of his own genius, the lofty 
conceptions of the great English orator, was from this time 
the object of his continual study and most fervent aspira- 
tions." 

" Even in those early days Grattan was preparing sedu- 
lously for his future destination. He had taken a residence 
near Windsor Forest, and there it was his custom to rove 
about moonlight nights, addressing the trees as if they were 
an audience. His landlady took such manifestations much 
to heart. ' What a sad thing it was,' she would say, ' to see 
the poor young gentleman all day talking to somebody he 
calls Mr. Speaker, when there is no speaker in the house ex- 
cept himself ! ' Her mind was completely made up upon 
the subject.' 

Mr. Grattan returned to Ireland in 1772, and became a 
member of the Irish parliament, in 1775. 

The complete independence of his country was the one 
great object which he had in view, during his brilliant politi- 
cal career. 

Ireland had been long treated by the English like a 
conquered nation. During the reign of George I., an act 
was passed, asserting, " that Ireland was a subordinate and 



138 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



dependent kingdom ; — that the Kings, Lords, and Commons 
of England had power to make laws to bind Ireland ; that 
the Irish House of Lords had no jurisdiction, and that all 
proceedings before that court were void." 

Mr. Grattan determined that the parliament of his country 
should be free if it was in his power to break the chains 
thrown around her. He resolved to effect the repeal of this 
act. Accordingly on the 19th of April, 1780, he made his 
memorable motion for a Declaration of Irish Right, which 
denied the authority of the British parliament to make laws 
for Ireland. Mr. Grattan was cheered on in taking this bold 
step by the whole body of the Irish nation. It is said that 
the speech which he delivered on that occasion in support 
of his motion " was the most splendid piece of eloquence 
that had ever been heard in Ireland." The orator himself 
always thought it his finest oratorical effort. Says Professor 
Goodrich : " As a specimen of condensed and fervid argumen- 
tation, it indicates a high order of talent ; while in brilliancy 
of style, pungency of application, and impassioned vehemence 
of spirit, it has rarely, if ever, been surpassed. The conclu- 
sion, especially, is one of the most magnificent passages in 
our eloquence." Mr. Grattan thus finished his speech in the 
boldest tone: 

" I might, as a constituent, come to your bar and demand 
my liberty. I do call upon you by the laws of the land, 
and their violation ; by the instructions of eighteen cen- 
turies ; by the arms, inspiration, and providence of the 
present movement — tell us the rule by which we shall go ; 
assert the law of Ireland ; declare the liberty of the land ! I 
will not be answered by a public lie, in the shape of an 
amendment ; nor, speaking for the subject's freedom, am I 
to hear of faction. I wish for nothing but to breathe in this 
our island, in common with my fellow-subjects, the air of 
liberty. I have no ambition, unless it be to break your chain 
and contemplate your glory. I never will be satisfied so 
long as the meanest cottager in Ireland has a link of the 
British chain clanking to his rags. He may be naked, he 
shall not be in irons. And I do see the time at hand ; the 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 39 



spirit has gone forth ; the Declaration of Right is planted 
and though great men should fall off, the cause will live ; 
and though he who utters this should die, yet the immortal 
fire shall outlast the organ that conveys it, and the breath 
of liberty, like the word of the holy man, will not die 
with the prophet, but survive him." 

Professor Goodrich says : " The reader will be interested 
to observe the rhythmics of the last three paragraphs, so slow 
and dignified in its movement ; so weighty as it falls on the 
ear; so perfectly adapted to the sentiments expressed in 
this magnificent passage. The effect will be heightened by 
comparing it with the rapid and iambic movement of the 
passage containing Mr. Erskine's description of the Indian 
chief." 

Mr. Grattan's motion did not pass at that time ; but not- 
withstanding his temporary defeat, he never faltered for a 
moment : he ever kept his eye fixed on parliamentary 
emancipation. Mr. Grattan availed himself of the general 
enthusiasm for liberty which prevailed in Ireland, and 
mainly by his efforts the Irish Revolution of 1782 was 
carried, thus achieving, to use the language of Lord 
Brougham, a victory " which stands at the head of all the 
triumphs ever won by a patriot for his country in modern 
times ; he had effected an important revolution in the gov- 
ernment without violence of any kind, and had broken 
chains of the most degrading kind by which the injustice 
and usurpation of three centuries had bowed her down." 

While his countrymen were armed, ready for open rebellion, 
on the 16th of April, 1782, Mr. Grattan repeated his motion 
in the Irish House of Commons for a Declaration of Irish 
Right. His speech on that occasion, it is said, was univer- 
sally admired for its boldness, sublimity, and compass of 
thought. The untiring efforts of the orator were at last 
crowned with complete success. The grievances of Ireland 
were redressed, a bill repealing the act of George I. was 
soon after passed. 

Mr. Grattan's services were remunerated by a grant of 
,£100,000 from the parliament of Ireland. He at first de- 



40 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



clined the reception of this high expression of gratitude ; but 
by the interposition of his friends he was subsequently in- 
duced to accept one-half of the amount granted. 

Shortly after this victory Mr. Grattan was led into a per- 
sonal quarrel with Mr. Flood, a rival member of parliament. 
A bitter animosity had arisen between them ; and Grattan 
having unfortunately led the way in personality, by speak- 
ing of his opponent's " affectation of infirmity," Flood 
replied with great asperity, denouncing Grattan as " a men- 
dicant patriot," who, " bought by his country for a sum of 
money, then sold his country for prompt payment." He 
also sneered at Grattan's " aping the style of Lord Chat- 
ham." To these taunts Grattan replied in a speech, an 
abridgment of which will be given. An arrangement for a 
hostile meeting between the parties was the consequence of 
this speech ; but Flood was arrested, and the crime of a duel 
was not added to the offence of vindictive personality of 
which both had been guilty. It is said that Grattan lived to 
regret his harshness, and spoke in generous terms of his rival. 
Mr. Grattan said : 

" It is not the slander of an evil tongue that can defame 
me. I maintain my reputation in public and in private life. 
No man, who has not a bad character, can ever say that I 
deceived. No country can call me a cheat. But I will sup- 
pose such a public character. I will suppose such a man to 
have existence. I will begin with his character in his politi- 
cal cradle, and I will follow him to the last stage of political 
dissolution. I will suppose him, in the first stage of his life, 
to have been intemperate ; in the second, to have been cor- 
rupt ; and in the last, seditious ; — that, after an envenomed 
attack on the persons and measures of a succession of vice- 
roys, and after much declamation against their illegalities 
and' their profusion, he took office, and became a supporter 
of government, when the profusion of ministers had greatly 
increased, and their crimes multiplied beyond example. 

" With regard to the liberties of America, which were in- 
separable from ours, I will suppose this gentleman to have 
been an enemy decided and unreserved ; that he voted 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 141 



against her liberty, and voted, moreover, for an address to 
send four thousand Irish troops to cut the throats of the 
Americans; that he called these butchers ' armed negotiators', 
and stood with a metaphor in his mouth and a bribe in 
his pocket, a champion against the rights of America, — of 
America, the only hope of Ireland, and the only refuge, of 
the liberties of mankind. Thus defective in every relation- 
ship, whether to constitution, commerce, and toleration, I 
will suppose this man to have added much private improbity 
to public crimes ; that his probity was like his patriotism, 
and his honour on a level with his oath. He loves to de- 
liver panegyrics on himself. I will interrupt him and say : 

" Sir, you are much mistaken if you think that your 
talents have been as great as your life has been reprehensi- 
ble. You began your parliamentary career with an acrimony 
and personality which could have been justified only by a 
supposition of virtue ; after a rank and clamorous opposition, 
you became, on a sudden, silent ; you were silent for seven 
years ; you were silent on the greatest questions, and you 
were silent for money ! You supported the unparalleled pro- 
fusion and jobbing of Lord Harcourt's scandalous ministry. 
You, sir, who manufacture stage thunder against Mr. Eden 
for his anti-American principles, — you, sir, whom it pleases 
to chant a hymn to the immortal Hampden ; — you, sir, ap- 
proved of the tyranny exercised against America, — and you, 
sir, voted four thousand Irish troops to cut the throats of 
the Americans fighting for their freedom, fighting for your 
freedom, fighting for the great principle, liberty ! But you 
found, at last, that the court had bought, but would not 
trust you. Mortified at the discovery, you try the sorry 
game of a trimmer in your progress to the acts of an incen- 
diary ; and observing, with regard to prince and people, the 
most impartial treachery and desertion, you justify the sus- 
picion of your sovereign by betraying the government, as 
you had sold the people. Such has been your conduct, and 
at such conduct every order of your fellow-subjects have a 
right to exclaim ! The merchant may say to you, the con- 
stitutionalist may say to you, the American may say to you, 



142 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



— and I, I now say, and say to your beard, sir, — you are not 
an honest man ! " 

The invectives of Mr. Grattan were terrible, and one of the 
most scathing pieces of this kind which he ever pronounced 
was that against Mr. Corry, Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
delivered during the debate on the union of Ireland with 
England, February 14, 1800. A duel, in which Mr. Corry 
was wounded in the arm, was the sequel to this speech. The 
immediate provocation of the speech was a remark from 
Corry that Grattan, instead of having a voice in the councils 
of his country, should have been standing as a culprit at her 
bar. 

Mr. Grattan said : 

"Has the gentleman done? Has he completely done? 
He was unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of 
his speech. There was scarce a word that he uttered that 
was not a violation of the privileges of the house. But I 
did not call him to order. Why ? Because the limited 
talents of some men render it impossible for them to be 
severe without being unparliamentary. But before I sit 
down I shall show him how to be severe and parliamentary 
at the same time. On any other occasion, I should think 
myself justifiable in treating with silent contempt anything 
which might fall from that honourable member ; but there 
are times when the insignificance of the accuser is lost in the 
magnitude of the accusation. I know the difficulty the 
honourable gentleman laboured under when he attacked me, 
conscious that, on a comparative view of our characters, 
public and private, there is nothing he could say which 
would injure me. The public would not believe the charge. 
I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an 
honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do be- 
fore I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made 
by an honest man. 

" The right honourable gentleman has called me 'an un- 
impeached traitor.' I ask, why not 'traitor,' unqualified by 
any epithet ? I will tell him ; it was because he dare not ! 
It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 14; 



has not courage to give the blow ! I will not call him villain, 
because it would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy coun- 
cillor. I will not call him fool, because he happens to be 
Chancellor of the Exchequer. But I say he is one who has 
abused the privilege of parliament and freedom of debate, to 
the uttering language which, if spoken out of the house, I 
should answer only with a blow ! I care not how high his 
situation, how low his character, how contemptible his 
speech ; whether a privy councillor or a parasite, my answer 
would be a blow ! He has charged me with being connected 
with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly 
false. Does the honourable gentleman rely on the report of 
the House of Lords for the foundation of his assertion ? If 
he does, I can prove to the committee there was a physical 
impossibility of that report being true. But I scorn to 
answer any man for my conduct, whether he be a political 
coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power by a 
false glare of courage or not. 

" I have returned, not as the right honourable member has 
said, to raise another storm, — I have returned to discharge 
an honourable debt of gratitude to my country, that con- 
ferred a great reward for past services, which, I am proud to 
say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to 
protect that constitution, of which I was the parent and the 
founder, from the assassination of such men as the honour- 
able gentleman and his unworthy associates. They are cor- 
rupt — they are seditious — and they, at this very moment, 
are in a conspiracy against their country ! I have returned 
to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the pub- 
lic under the appellation of a report of the committee of the 
lords. Here I stand for impeachment or trial ! I dare ac- 
cusation ! I defy the honourable gentleman ! I defy the 
government ! I defy the whole phalanx ; let them come 
forth ! I tell the ministers I shall neither give them quarter 
nor take it ! I am here to lay the shattered remains of my 
constitution on the floor of this house, in defence of the 
liberties of my country. 

'.* The right honourable gentleman has said that this was 



144 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



not my place — that instead of having a voice in the councils 
of my country, I shall now stand a culprit at her bar — at the 
bar of a court of criminal judicature, to answer for my 
treasons. The Irish people have not so read my history ; 
but let that pass ; if I am what he said I am, the people are 
not therefore to forfeit their constitution. In point of argu- 
ment, therefore, the attack is bad — in point of taste or feeling, 
if he had either, it is worse — in point of fact it is false, 
utterly and absolutely false — as rancorous a falsehood as the 
most malignant motives could suggest to the prompt sym- 
pathy of a shameless and a venal defence. The right hon- 
ourable gentleman has suggested examples which I should 
have shunned, and examples which I should have followed. 
I shall never follow his, and I have ever avoided it. I shall 
never be ambitious to purchase public scorn by private 
infamy — the lighter characters of the model have as little 
chance of weaning me from the habits of a life spent, if not 
exhausted, in the cause of my native land. Am I to re- 
nounce those habits now forever and at the beck of whom, 
I should rather say of what — half a minister, half a monkey 
— a 'prentice politician, and a master coxcomb? He has 
told you that what he said of me here, he would say any- 
where. I believe he would say thus of me in any place 
where he thought himself safe in saying it. Nothing can 
limit his calumnies but his fears — in parliament he has ca- 
lumniated me to-night, in the king's courts he would calum- 
niate me to-morrow; but had he said or dared to insinuate 
one half as much elsewhere, the indignant spirit of an 
honest man would have answered the vile and venal slan- 
derer with — a blow." 

Mr. Grattan was always opposed to the union of Ireland 
with England. To prevent it in 1800, when the question 
was discussed, he delivered a speech of great ability, from 
which the following eloquent passage is taken : 

" The ministers of the crown will, or may, perhaps, at 
length find that it is not so easy, by abilities however great, 
and by power and corruption however irresistible, to put 
down forever an ancient and respectable nation. Liberty 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 145 



may repair her golden beams, and with redoubled heat 
animate the country. The cry of loyalty will not long con- 
tinue against the principles of liberty. Loyalty is a noble, a 
judicious, and a capacious principle ; but in these countries, 
loyalty, distinct from liberty, is corruption, not loyalty. 

" The cry of disaffection will not, in the end, avail against 
the principles of liberty. Yet I do not give up the country. 
I see her in a swoon, but she is not dead. Though in her 
tomb she lies helpless and motionless, still there is on her 
lips a spirit of life, and on her cheek a glow of beauty : 

' Thou art not conquered ; beauty's ensign yet 
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, 
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.' 

" While a plank of the vessel sticks together, I will not 
leave her. Let the courtier present his flimsy sail, and carry 
the light bark of his faith with every new breath of wind ; 
I will remain anchored here, with fidelity to the fortunes of 
my country, faithful to her freedom, faithful to her fall." 

His countrymen, however, were so much divided that his 
efforts were unavailing. He exerted his oratorical powers 
in vain on this subject. 

Mr. Grattan became a member of the British parliament 
in 1805, where he stood eminent among the leading orators 
and statesmen of the age. Charles Phillips says : " His 
debut in the imperial parliament was a bold and hazardous 
experiment. He had told Flood, and somewhat prophetic- 
ally, ' that an oak of the forest was too old to be transplanted 
at fifty ' ; and yet here he was himself ; whether he would 
take root was the question, and for some moments very 
questionable it was. When he rose, every voice in that 
crowded house was hushed — the great rivals, Pitt and Fox, 
rivetted their eyes on him — he strode forth and gesticulated 
— the hush became ominous, not a cheer was heard, men 
looked in one another's faces, and then at the phenomenon 
before them, as if doubting his identity ; at last and on a 
sudden the indication of the master-spirit came. Pitt was 
the first generously to recognise it ; he smote his thigh 



I46 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



hastily with his hand — it was an impulse when he was 
pleased — his followers saw it, and knew it, and with a uni- 
versal burst they hailed the advent and the triumph of the 
stranger." 

Grattan died in London on the 14th of May, 1820. Mr. 
Grattan's personal appearance is thus described by Charles 
Phillips : " He was short in stature and unprepossessing in 
appearance. His arms were disproportionately long. His 
walk was a stride. With a person swaying like a pendulum,, 
and an abstracted air, he seemed always in thought, and 
each thought provoked an attendant gesticulation. Such 
was the outward and visible form of one whom the passenger 
would stop to stare at as a droll, and the philosopher con- 
template as a study. How strange it seems that a mind so 
replete with grace and symmetry, and power and splendour, 
should have been allotted such a dwelling for its residence. 
Yet so it was ; and so also was it one of his highest attrib- 
utes that his genius, by its ' excessive light,' blinded the 
hearer to his physical imperfections. It was the victory of 
mind over matter. The man was forgotten in the orator." 

The outlines of Mr. Grattan's character as an orator will 
next be given. 

His son says : " The style of his speaking was strikingly 
remarkable, — bold, figurative, and impassioned, — always 
adapted to the time and circumstance, and peculiarly well 
suited to the taste and temper of the audience that he had 
to address. In the latter part of his career, his arguments 
were more closely arranged ; there was less ornament, but 
more fact and reasoning ; less to dazzle the sight, and more 
to convince the understanding." 

Grattan endeavoured, as has been said, to form his manner 
of speaking after the style of Lord Chatham. His eloquence 
resembled that of the great Englishman in many respects. 
" Like him, he excelled in the highest characteristics of 
oratory — in vehemence of action, condensation of style, 
rapidity of thought, closeness of argumentation, striking fig- 
ures, grand metaphors, beautiful rhythmus, luminous state- 
ments, vivid descriptions, touching pathos, lofty declama- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 147 



tion, bitter sarcasm, and fierce invective. His language, like 
that of Chatham, is remarkable for its terseness, expressive- 
ness, and energy. His periods are made up of short clauses 
which flash upon the mind with uncommon vividness. Pass- 
ing over the minutiae of his discourse, he seized the principal 
points in debate and presented them in the strongest light. 
The intensity of feeling by which his mental operations were 
governed, gave rise to this characteristic of eloquence which 
distinguishes the most powerful orators. Aiming directly at 
his object, he generally struck the decisive blow in a few 
words. 

" Deep emotion strikes directly at its object. It struggles 
to get free from all secondary ideas — all mere accessories. 
Hence the simplicity and even barrenness of thought, which 
we usually find in the great passages of Chatham and De- 
mosthenes. The whole turns often on a single phrase, a 
word, an allusion. They put forward a few great objects, 
sharply defined, and standing boldly out in the glowing at- 
mosphere of emotion. They pour their burning thoughts 
instantaneously upon the mind, as a person might catch the 
rays of the sun in a concave mirror, and turn them on their 
object with a sudden and consuming power." 

Lord Brougham, an excellent critic, says of Mr. Grattan : 
" Among the orators, as among the statesmen of his age, 
Mr. Grattan occupies a place in the foremost rank ; and it 
was the age of the Pitts, the Foxes, and the Sheridans. His 
eloquence was of a very high order, all but of the very high- 
est, and it was eminently original. In the constant stream 
of a diction replete with epigram and point, a stream on 
which floated gracefully, because naturally, flowers of various 
hues, — was poured forth the closest reasoning, the most 
luminous statement, the most persuasive display of all the 
motives that could influence, and of all the details that could 
enlighten, his audience. Often a different strain was heard, 
and it was declamatory and vehement — or pity was to be 
moved, and its pathos was as touching as it was simple — or, 
above all, an adversary sunk in baseness, or covered with 
crimes, was to be punished or to be destroyed, and a storm 



I48 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of the most terrible invective raged, with all the blights of 
sarcasm and the thunders of abuse." 

Professor Goodrich, in a splendid critique on the genius 
of Grattan, says : "The speeches of Mr. Grattan offered un- 
equivocal proof, not only of a powerful intellect, but of a 
high and original genius. There was nothing commonplace 
in his thoughts, his images, or his sentiments. Everything 
came fresh from his mind with the vividness of a new crea- 
tion. His most striking characteristic was condensation and 
rapidity of thought. ' Semper instans sibi] pressing con- 
tinually upon himself, he never dwelt upon an idea, however 
important ; he rarely presented it under more than one 
aspect ; he hardly ever stopped to fill out the immediate 
steps of his argument. His forte was reasoning, but it was 
i logic or fire ' ; and he seemed ever to delight in flashing 
his ideas on the mind with a sudden, startling abruptness. 
Hence a distinguished writer has spoken of his eloquence as 
a ' combination of cloud, whirlwind, and flame ' — a striking 
representation of the occasional obscurity and the rapid 
force and brilliancy of his style. But his incessant effort 
to be strong sometimes made him unnatural. He seems to 
be continually straining after effect. He wanted that calm- 
ness and self-possession which mark the highest order of 
minds, and show their consciousness of great strength. 
When he had mastered, his subject mastered him. His 
great efforts have too much the air of harangues. They 
sound more like the battle speeches of Tacitus than the 
orations of Demosthenes. 

" His style was elaborated with great care. It abounds in 
metaphors which were always striking and often grand. It 
is full of antitheses and epigrammatic turns, which give it 
uncommon point and brilliancy, but have too often an 
appearance of labour and affectation. His language is select. 
His periods are easy and fluent — made up of short clauses, 
with but few or brief qualifications, all uniting in the expres- 
sion of some one leading thought. His rhythmus is often 
uncommonly fine. In the peroration of his great speech of 
April 19, 1780, we have one of the best specimens in our 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 49 



language of that admirable adaptation of the sound to the 
sense which distinguished the ancient orators. 

" Though Mr. Grattan is not a safe model in every re- 
spect, there are certain purposes for which his speeches may 
be studied with great advantage. Nothing can be better 
suited to break up a dull monotony of style — to give raci- 
ness and point — to teach a young speaker the value of that 
terse and expressive language which is to the orator, espe- 
cially, the finest instrument of thought." 

The delivery of Mr. Grattan is vividly described by 
Charles Phillips : " The chief difficulty in this speaker's way 
was the first five minutes. During his exordium laughter 
was imminent. He bent his body almost to the ground, 
swung his arms over his head, up and down and around 
him, and added to the grotesqueness of his manner a hesi- 
tating tone and drawling emphasis. Still, there was an 
earnestness about him that at first besought, and as he 
warmed, enforced, nay commanded, attention. The eleva- 
tion of his mind, the grandeur of his diction, the majesty of 
his declamation, the splendour of his imagery, and the 
soundness of his logic, displayed in turn the ascendancy of 
a genius. He was fine and judicious in his panegyric; but 
his forte — that which seemed to conjure up and concentrate 
all his faculties — was the overwhelming, withering severity 
of his invective. It was like the torrent-lava ; brilliant, in- 
evitable, fatal. It required such qualifications to overcome 
the peculiarity of his appearance and the disadvantages of 
his manner. Truly indeed might it be said of him, as he 
said of Chatham, he was ' very great and very odd.' For a 
time the eye dissented from the verdict of the mind ; but 
at last his genius carried all before it, and, as in the oracle 
of old, the contortions vanished as the inspiration became 
manifest." 

It is said that the character of Mr. Grattan was irreproach- 
able. It was remarked by Sir James Mackintosh, that he 
was as eminent in his observance of all the duties of private 
life as he was heroic in the discharge of his public ones. He 
may be said to have lived only for his country, and died in 



150 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



advocating her cause. Wilberforce declared that he never 
knew a man whose patriotism and love for his country 
seemed so completely to extinguish all private interests, 
and to induce him to look invariably and exclusively to the 
public good. 

Curran. — John Philpot Curran was born at Newmarket, a 
small village in the County of Cork, Ireland, on the 24th of 
July, 1750. 

He entered Trinity College, Dublin, at the age of nine- 
teen. After the completion of his college course he went 
to London, and commenced the study of the law in the 
Middle Temple. He pursued his studies here with great 
ardour. 

His mornings were spent reading law, even to exhaustion, 
and the rest of the day in the more congenial pursuits of 
literature. 

He usually read law seven hours every day before his 
admission to the bar, and devoted about three hours each 
day to the study of history and the general principles of 
politics. 

In order to master the art of oratory, Mr. Curran com- 
menced a system of discipline almost as severe as that 
adopted by the great Athenian. He knew that the art of 
speaking well cannot be acquired without the closest appli- 
cation, extensive practice, repeated trials, deep sagacity, and 
a ready invention. 

When Curran commenced speaking, his voice was so bad, 
and his articulation so hasty and confused, that he was 
called " stuttering Jack Curran." 

His manner was extremely awkward, his gestures were 
extravagant and meaningless as many of those we daily see 
in, ordinary practice, and his whole appearance was only 
calculated to produce laughter. All these faults he over- 
came by patient labour. 

Mr. Curran regularly attended the London debating so- 
cieties ; but he was at first ridiculed by his opponents, and 
mortified by frequent failures. 

Mr. Curran gives a graphic account of one of his earliest 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. I 5 I 



efforts at a debating club. After he became a distinguished 
orator, some one speaking to him of his eloquence said, 
" It must have been born with you." Curran replied : 
" Indeed, my dear sir, it was not. It was born three and 
twenty years and some months after me. When I was at 
the Temple, a few of us formed a little debating club, where 
all the great questions in ethics and politics were discussed 
and irrevocably settled. Upon the first night of our as- 
sembling, I attended, my foolish heart throbbing with the 
anticipated honour of being styled, ' the honoured member 
that opened the debate,' or ' the very eloquent gentleman 
who had just sat down/ All day the scene had been flitting 
before my fancy and cajoling it ; my ear already caught the 
glorious melody of ' hear him ! hear him ! ' I stood up. I have 
forgotten what the question was. My mind was stored with 
about a folio volume of matter. I stood up trembling through 
every fibre, but remembering that in this I was imitating 
Cicero, I took courage, and had actually proceeded as far as 
' Mr. Chairman/ when to my astonishment and terror I per- 
ceived that every eye was rivetted upon me. There were but 
six or seven present, and the little room could not hold as 
many more, yet was it to my panic-struck imagination as if I 
were the central object in nature, and assembled millions were 
gazing on me with breathless expectation. I became dis- 
mayed and dumb. My friends cried * hear him ! ' but there 
was nothing to hear. So you see it was not born in me. My 
friends despaired of my ever making a speaker, but I would 
not give it up. I attended the debates punctually, I said 
yes and no, till at length one in his speech referred to me, 
calling me ' orator mum,' who he doubted not possessed 
wonderful talents for eloquence although he would recom- 
mend him to show it in future by some more popular method 
than his silence. I followed his advice." 

One of his friends says : " He turned his shrill and 
stumbling brogue into a flexible, sustained, and finely 
modulated voice ; his action became free and forcible ; he 
acquired perfect readiness in thinking on his legs ; he put 
down every opponent by the mingled force of his argument 



152 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



and wit, and was at last crowned with the universal applause 
of the society, and invited by the president to an entertain- 
ment in their behalf." 

Mr. Curran was a member of the Irish House of Com- 
mons from 1783 to 1797, but he never became a distin- 
guished parliamentary orator. 

His education fitted him for the forum rather than the 
senate. His greatest speeches were made at the state trials 
arising out of the United Irish conspiracy. 

Probably, the most eloquent speech he made was the one 
in defence of Mr. Rowan, who was indicted for the publica- 
tion of a seditious libel. This speech was delivered on the 
29th of January, 1794. This speech .contains those strikingly 
beautiful and highly finished passages on universal emanci- 
pation and the liberty of the press. In reading them it 
must be borne in mind that it was not so much his matter, 
although that was excellent, but the manner in which his 
speech was made which invested it with such irresistible 
power, and caused it to produce such wonderful effects. 

In order, then, to form an adequate idea of that wonderful 
eloquence which subdued every heart, "we must call up in 
our minds the living speaker, with his glowing eye and 
expressive countenance ; his bold and impassioned gestures ; 
his finely modulated voice and musical tones ; his wit and 
mimicry ; his tenderness and pathos ; his cutting sarcasm 
and overwhelming invective." 

The first extract which the author will give from his speech 
in defence'of Mr. Rowan, is on the Liberty of the Press: 

"What then remains? The liberty of the Press only — 
that sacred palladium which no influence, no power, no 
minister, no government, which nothing but the depravity, 
or folly, or corruption of a jury can ever destroy. 

" In that awful moment of a nation's travail, of the last 
gasp of tyranny, and the first breath of freedom, how preg- 
nant is the example ! The press extinguished, the people 
enslaved, and the prince undone. As the advocate of so- 
ciety, therefore — of peace — of domestic liberty — and the 
lasting union of the two countries — I conjure you to guard 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. I 5 3 



the liberty of the press, that great sentinel of the state, that 
great detecter of public imposture ; guard it, because, when 
it sinks, there sinks with it, in one common grave, the 
liberty of the subject and the security of the crown. 

"There is a sort of aspiring and adventurous credulity 
which disdains assenting to obvious truths, and delights in 
catching at the improbability of circumstance, as its best 
ground of faith. To what other cause, gentlemen, can you 
ascribe that, in the wise, the reflecting, and the philosophical 
nation of Great Britain, a printer has been found guilty of a 
libel for publishing those resolutions, to which the present 
minister of that kingdom had actually subscribed his name? 
To what other cause can you ascribe, what in my mind is 
still more astonishing, in such a country as Scotland, a 
nation cast in the happy medium between the spiritless 
acquiescence of submissive poverty and the sturdy credulity 
of pampered wealth ; cool and ardent, adventurous and per- 
severing ; winging her eagle flight against the blaze of every 
science, with an eye that never winks, and a wing that never 
tires ; crowned as she is with the spoils of every art, and 
decked with the wreath of every muse ; from the deep and 
scrutinising researches of her Hume, to the sweet and sim- 
ple, but not less sublime and pathetic morality of her Burns 
— how, from the bosom of a country like that, genius and 
character and talents should be banished to a distant, bar- 
barous soil, condemned to pine under the horrid communion 
of vulgar vice and base-born profligacy, for twice the period 
that ordinary calculation gives to the continuance'of human 
life ? But I will not further press any idea that is painful to 
me, and I am sure must be painful to you. I will only say, 
you have now an example of which neither England nor 
Scotland had the advantage. You have the example of the 
panic, the infatuation, and the contrition of both. It is now 
for you to decide whether you will profit by their experience 
of idle panic and idle regret, or whether you merely prefer 
to palliate a servile imitation of their frailty by a paltry 
affectation of their repentance. It is now for you to show 
that you are not carried away by the same hectic delusions, 



154 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



to acts of which no tears can wash away the consequences 
or the indelible reproach." 

The eloquent passage on Universal Emancipation reads as 
follows : " I speak in the spirit of the British law, which 
makes liberty commensurate with, and inseparable from, the 
British soil — which proclaims even to the stranger and the 
sojourner the moment he sets foot upon British earth, that 
the ground on which he treads is holy and consecrated by 
the genius of Universal Emancipation. No matter in what 
language his doom may be pronounced ; no matter what 
complexion incompatible with freedom an Indian or an 
African sun may have burned upon him ; no matter in what 
disastrous battle his liberty may have been cloven down ; no 
matter with what solemnities he may have been devoted 
upon the altar of slavery, — the first moment he touches the 
sacred soil of Britain, the altar and the god sink together in 
the dust ; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty ; his 
body swells beyond the measure of his chains, that burst 
from around him, and he stands redeemed, regenerated, 
and disenthralled by the irresistible genius of Universal 
Emancipation." 

Beautifully conceived is the peroration of this great 
speech : " Upon this subject credit me when I say that I 
am still more anxious for you than I can be for him. I 
cannot but feel the peculiarity of your situation. Not the 
jury of his own choice, which the law of England allows, 
but which ours refuses, collected in that box by a person 
certainly no friend to Mr. Rowan, certainly not very deeply 
interested in giving him a very impartial jury. Feeling 
this, as I am persuaded you do, you cannot be surprised, 
however you may be distressed, at the mournful presage 
with which an anxious public is led to fear the worst from 
your possible determination. But I will not, for the justice 
and honour of our common country, suffer my mind to be 
borne away by such melancholy anticipations. I will not 
relinquish the confidence that this day will be the period of 
his sufferings ; and however merciless he has been hitherto 
pursued, that your verdict will send him home to the arms 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 5 5 



of his family and the wishes of his country. But if, which 
Heaven forbid, it hath still been unfortunately determined 
that, because he has not bent to power and authority, be- 
cause he would not bow down before the golden calf and 
worship it, he is to be bound and cast into the furnace, I do 
trust in God that there is a redeeming spirit in the Constitu- 
tion which will be seen to walk with the sufferer through the 
flames, and to preserve him unhurt by the conflagration." 

Mr. Curran's personal appearance is vividly described by 
his friend and biographer, the celebrated Charles Phillips : 
" Mr. Curran was short of stature, with a swarthy com- 
plexion, and ' an eye that glowed like a live coal.' His coun- 
tenance was singularly expressive ; and as he stood before 
a jury he not only read their hearts with a searching glance, 
but he gave them back his own in all the fluctuations of his 
feelings, from laughter to tears. His gesture was bold and 
impassioned ; his articulation was uncommonly distinct and 
deliberate ; the modulations of his voice were varied in a 
high degree, and perfectly suited to the widest range of his 
eloquence." 

Mr. Curran's oratory was of the most copious, fervid, and 
expressive kind. It sparkled with wit, humour, fun, and ridi- 
cule. Bitter sarcasm and terrible invective sometimes pre- 
dominated, however. At other times his deep pathos caused 
tears to flow from every eye. The strength and variety of 
his emotions were wonderful. " He delighted a jury by his 
wit ; he turned the court-room into a scene of the broadest 
farce by his humour, mimicry, and fun ; he made it ' a place 
of tears,' by a tenderness and pathos which subdued every 
heart ; he poured out his invective like a stream of lava, and 
inflamed the minds of his countrymen almost to madness by 
the recital of their wrongs. His rich and powerful imagina- 
tion furnished the materials for these appeals, and his instinc- 
tive knowledge of the heart taught him how to use them 
with unfailing success." 

Mr. Curran's ascendancy over the feelings of his country- 
men was complete. He was one of the most popular orators 
of his day. " He spoke — and the nation listened. He put 



156 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



forth his thoughts in language that stirred the hearts of all. 
His imagination was fertile ; his language was striking and 
appropriate ; his pathos was refined and thrilling ; his whole 
appearance indicated earnestness and sincerity. In many 
respects, his eloquence was similar to that of his intimate 
associate and illustrious rival, Thomas Addis Emmet." 

Judge Story's remarks on the character of Mr. Emmet 
apply with equal truth to Mr. Curran. " His mind was 
quick, vigorous, searching, and buoyant. He kindled as he 
spoke. There was a spontaneous combustion, as it were, 
not sparkling, but clear and glowing. His object seemed to 
be, not to excite wonder or surprise, to captivate by bright 
pictures, and varied images, and graceful groups, and start- 
ling apparitions ; but by earnest and close reasoning to con- 
vince the judgment, or to overwhelm the heart by awakening 
its most profound emotions. His own feelings were warm 
and easily touched. His sensibility was keen, and refined 
itself almost into a melting tenderness. His knowledge of 
the human heart was various and exact. He was easily 
captivated by a belief that his own cause was first. Hence 
his eloquence was most striking for its persuasiveness. He 
said what he felt, and he felt what he said. His command 
over the passions of others was an instantaneous and sympa- 
thetic action. The tones of his voice, when he touched on 
topics calling for deep feeling, were instinct with meaning. 
They were utterances of the soul as well as of the lips." 

O'Connell. — Daniel O'Connell, one of the greatest forensic 
and political orators which Ireland has produced, was born 
August 6, 1775, in Kerry. He was of a long-lived family: 
his uncle Maurice, was ninety-seven at the time of his death, 
and another uncle, General O'Connell, died in the French. 
service at the age of ninety-one. O'Connell was called to 
the Irish bar in Easter Term, 1798, and his industry and 
ability soon obtained him business. 

The following sketch of O'Connell was written during his 
lifetime, by Sheil, for many years his warm personal friend, 
and political associate : 

" His frame is tall, expanded, and muscular ; precisely 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 57 



such as befits a man of the people — for the physical classes 
ever look with double confidence and affection upon a 
leader who represents in his own person the qualities 
upon which they rely. In his face he has been equally for- 
tunate : it is extremely comely. The features are at once 
soft and manly; 'the florid glow of health and a sanguine 
temperament are diffused over the whole countenance, 
which is national in the outline, and beaming with national 
emotion. The expression is open and confiding, and invi- 
ting confidence ; there is not a trace of malignity or wile — 
if there were, the bright and sweet blue eyes, the most 
kindly and honest-looking that can be conceived, would 
repel the imputation. These popular gifts of nature O'Con- 
nell has not neglected to set off by his external carriage and 
deportment, or, perhaps, I should rather say, that the same 
hand which has moulded the exterior has supersaturated the 
inner man with a fund of restless propensity, which it is 
quite beyond his power, as it is certainly beyond his inclina- 
tion, to control. A large portion of this is necessarily ex- 
pended upon his legal avocations ; but the labours of the 
most laborious of professions cannot tame him into repose : 
after deducting the daily drains of the study and the courts, 
there remains an ample residuum of animal spirits and ardour 
for occupation, which go to form a distinct, and, I might 
say, a predominant character — the political chieftain. The 
existence of this overweening vivacity is conspicuous in 
O'Connell's manners and movements, and being a popular, 
and more particularly a national quality, greatly recom- 
mends him to the Irish people. . . . 

" As a professional man O'Connell is, perhaps, for general 
business, the most competent advocate at the Irish bar. 
Every requisite for a barrister of all-work is combined in 
him ; some in perfection — all in sufficiency. He is not un- 
derstood to be a deep scientific lawyer. He is, what is far 
better for himself and his clients, an admirably practical 
one. He is a thorough adept in all the complicated and fan- 
tastic forms with which justice, like a Chinese monarch, 
insists that her votaries shall approach her. A suitor ad- 



158 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



vancing toward her throne, cannot go through the evolutions 
of the indispensable Ko-tou under a more skilful master of 
the ceremonies. In this department of his profession, the 
knowledge of the practice of the courts, and in a perfect 
familiarity with the general principles of law that are applica- 
ble to questions discussed in open court, O'Connell is on a 
level with the most experienced of his competitors ; and with 
few exceptions, perhaps with the single one of Mr. Plunket, 
he surpasses them all in the vehement and pertinacious 
talent with which he contends to the last for victory, or, 
where victory is impossible, for an honourable retreat. If 
his mind had been duly disciplined, he would have been a 
first-rate reasoner and a most formidable sophist. He has all 
the requisites from nature — singular clearness, promptitude, 
and acuteness. When occasion requires, he evinces a meta- 
physical subtlety of perception which nothing can elude. 
The most slippery distinction that glides across him, he can 
grasp and hold ' pressis wianibus,' until he pleases to set it 
free. But his argumentative powers lose much of their 
effect from want of arrangement. His thoughts have too 
much of the impatience of conscious strength to submit to 
an orderly disposition. Instead of moving to the conflict in 
compact array, they rush forward like a tumultuary insur- 
gent mass, jostling and overturning one another in the con- 
fusion of the charge ; and, though finally beating down all 
opposition by sheer strength and numbers, still reminding 
us of the far greater things they might have achieved had 
they been better drilled. 

" But, O'Connell has, by temperament, a disdain of every- 
thing that is methodical and sedate. You can see this 
running through his whole deportment in court. I never 
knew a learned personage who resorted so little to the ordi- 
nary tricks of his vocation. As he sits waiting till his turn 
comes to ' blaze away,' he appears totally exempt from the 
usual throes and heavings of animo-gestation. There is no 
hermetically-sealing of the lips, as if nothing else could 
restrain the fermentation within ; there are no traces of ab- 
straction, as if the thoughts had left their home on a distant 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 159 



voyage of discovery ; no haughty swellings of the mind into 
alto-relievos on the learned brow ; — there is nothing of this 
about O'Connell. On the contrary, his countenance and 
manner impress you with the notion, that he looks forward 
to the coming effort as a pastime in which he takes delight. 
Instead of assuming the ' Sir Oracle,' he is all gayety and 
good-humour, and seldom fails to disturb the gravity of the 
proceedings by a series of disorderly jokes, for which he is 
duly rebuked by his antagonists with a solemnity of indig- 
nation that provokes a repetition of the offence ; but his 
insubordinate levity is, for the most part, so redeemed by 
his imperturbable good-temper, that even the judges, when 
compelled to interfere and pronounce him out of order, are 
generally shaking their sides as heartily as the most enrap- 
tured of his admirers in the galleries. In the midst, how- 
ever, of this seeming carelessness, his mind is, in reality, 
attending with the keenest vigilance to the subject-matter 
of discussion ; and the contrast is often quite amusing. . . . 
" Mr. O'Connell is in particular request in jury cases. There 
he is in his element. Next to the ' harp of his country,' an 
Irish jury is the instrument on which he delights to play ; 
and no one better understands its qualities and compass. I 
have already glanced at his versatility. It is here that it is 
displayed. His powers as a Nisi-Prius advocate, consist 
not so much in the perfection of any of the qualities neces- 
sary to the art of persuasion, as in the number of them he 
has at command, and the skill with which he selects and 
adapts them to the exigency of each particular case. He 
has a thorough knowledge of human nature, as it prevails 
in the class of men whom he has to mould to his purposes. 
I know of no one that exhibits a more quick and accurate 
perception of the essential peculiarities of the Irish charac- 
ter. It is not merely with reference to their passions that 
he understands them, though here he is pre-eminently adroit. 
He can cajole a dozen of miserable corporation-hacks into 
the persuasion that the honour of their country is concen- 
trated in their persons. His mere acting on such occasions 
is admirable ; no matter how base and stupid, and how 



l6o HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



poisoned by political antipathy to himself, he may believe 
them to be, he affects the most complimentary ignorance of 
their real characters. He hides his scorn and contempt 
under a look of unbounded reliance. He addresses them 
with all the deference due to upright and high-minded 
jurors. He talks to them of ' the eyes of all Europe,' and 
the present gratitude of Ireland, and the residuary blessings 
of posterity, with the most perfidious command of counte- 
nance. In short, by dint of unmerited commendations, he 
belabours them into the belief that, after all, they have some 
reputation to sustain, and sets them chuckling, with antici- 
pated exultation, at the honours with which a verdict accord- 
ing to the evidence is to consecrate their names. 

" But, in addition to the art of heating the passions of his 
hearers to the malleable point, O'Connell manifests powers 
of observation of another, and, for general purposes, a more 
valuable kind. He knows that strange modification of hu- 
manity — the Irish mind, — not only in its moral, but in its 
metaphysical peculiarities. Throw him upon any particular 
class of men, and you would imagine that he must have 
lived among them all his life, so intuitively does he accom- 
modate his style of argument to their particular modes of 
thinking and reasoning. He knows the exact quantity of 
strict logic which they will bear or can comprehend. Hence 
(where it serves his purpose), instead of trying to drag them 
along with him, whether they will or no, by a chain of un- 
broken demonstration, he has the address to make them 
imagine that their movements are directed solely by them- 
selves. He pays their compliments the compliment of not 
making things too clear. Familiar with the habitual tenden- 
cies of their minds, he contents himself with throwing of! 
rather materials for reasoning than elaborate reasonings — 
mere fragments or seeds of thought, which, from his know- 
ledge of the soil in which they drop, he confidently predicts 
will shoot up and expand into precisely the conclusions that 
he wants. This method has the disadvantage, as far as per- 
sonally regards the speaker, of giving the character of more 
than his usual looseness and irregularity to O'Connell's jury 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. l6l 



speeches ; but his client, for whom alone he labours, is a 
gainer by it — directly in the way I have been stating, and 
indirectly for this reason, that it keeps the jury in the dark 
as to the points of the case in which he feels he is weak. By 
abstaining from a show of rigorous demonstration, where all 
the argument is evidently upon his side, he excites no sus- 
picion by keeping at an equal distance from topics which he 
•could not venture to approach. This, of course, is not to 
be taken as O'Connell's invariable manner, for he has no in- 
variable manner, but as a specimen of that dexterous accom- 
modation of particular means to a particular end, from 
which his general powers as a Nisi-Prius advocate may be 
inferred. And so, too, of the tone in which he labours to ex- 
tort a verdict ; for though, when compelled by circumstances, 
lie can be soft and soothing, as I have above described him, 
yet on other occasions, where it can be done with safety, he 
does not hesitate to apprise a jury, whose purity he suspects, 
of his real opinion of their merits, and indeed, not infre- 
quently, in the roundest terms defies them to balance for 
an instant between their malignant prejudices and the clear 
and resistless justice of the case. 

" There is one, the most difficult, it is said, and certainly 
the most anxious and responsible part of an advocate's 
duties, in which O'Connell is without a rival at the Irish bar 
— I allude to his skill in conducting defences in the crown 
court. His ability in this branch of his profession illustrates 
one of those inconsistencies in his character to which I have 
already adverted. Though habitually so bold and sanguine, 
he is here a model of forethought and undeviating caution. 
In his most rapid cross-examinations he never puts a dan- 
gerous question. He presses a witness upon collateral facts, 
and beats him down by arguments and jokes and vocifera- 
tions ; but wisely presuming his client to be guilty until he 
has the good luck to escape conviction, he never affords the 
witness an opportunity of repeating his original narrative, 
and perhaps, by supplying an omitted item, of sealing the 
doom of the accused. 

" O'Connell's ordinary style is vigorous and copious, but 



1 62 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



incorrect. The want of compactness in his periods, how- 
ever, I attribute chiefly to inattention. He has phrase in 
abundance at command, is sensible of melody. Every now 
and then he throws off sentences not only free from all 
defect, but extremely felicitous specimens of diction. As 
to his general powers of eloquence, he rarely fails in a case 
admitting of emotion to make a deep impression upon a 
jury ; and in a popular assembly he is supreme. Still there 
is much more of eloquence in his manner and topics than in 
his conceptions. He unquestionably proves, by occasional 
bursts, that the elements of oratory, and perhaps of the 
highest order, are about him ; but he has had too many 
pressing demands of another kind to distract him from the 
cultivation of this the rarest of all attainments, and accord- 
ingly I am not aware that any of his efforts, however able 
and successful, have deserved, as examples of public speak- 
ing, to survive the occasion. His manner, though far from 
graceful, is earnest and impressive. It has a steady and 
natural warmth, without any of that snappish animation in 
which gentlemen of the long robe are prone to indulge. His 
voice is powerful, and the intonations full and graduated. 
I understand that when he first appeared at the bar, his 
accent at once betrayed his foreign education. To this day 
there is a remaining dash of Foigardism in his pronunciation 
of particular words ; but on the whole he has brought him- 
self, as far as delivery is concerned, to talk pretty much like 
a British subject.' 

Curran gives the following sketch of O'Connell : " The 
inmate of the carriage was about five feet eleven and a half 
inches high, and wore a portly, stout, hale, and agreeable 
appearance. His shoulders were broad, and his legs stoutly 
built, and, as he at that moment stood, one arm in his side- 
pocket, the other thrust into a waistcoat, which was almost 
completely unbuttoned "from the heat of the day, he would 
have made a good figure for the rapid but fine-finishing 
pencil of Harlowe. His head was covered with a light fur 
cap, which, partly thrown back, displayed the breadth of 
forehead which I have never yet seen absent from real 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 163 



talent. His eyes appeared to me at that instant to be 
between a light-blue and a grey colour. His face was pale 
and sallow, as if the turmoil of business, the shade of care, 
or the study of midnight had chased away the glow of health 
and youth. Around his mouth played a cast of sarcasm, 
which, to a quick eye, at once betrayed satire ; and it ap- 
peared as if the lips could be easily resolved into the risus 
sardonicus. His head was somewhat larger than that which 
a modern doctrine denominates the " medium size"; and it 
was well supported by a stout and well-foundationed ped- 
estal, which was based on a breast, full, round, prominent, 
and capacious. The eye was shaded by a brow which I 
thought would be more congenial to sunshine than storm ; 
and the nose was neither Grecian nor Roman, but was large 
enough to admit him into the chosen band of that " im- 
mortal rebel " (as Lord Byron called Cromwell), who chose 
his body-guard with capacious lungs and noses, as affording 
greater capability of undergoing toil and hardship. Alto- 
gether he appeared to possess strong physical powers. . . . 
" Were O'Connell addressing a mixed assembly where the 
lower orders predominated, I scarcely know any one who 
would have such a power of wielding the passions. He 
has a knack of speaking to a mob which I have never heard 
exceeded. His manner has at times the rhodomontade of 
Hunt; but he is infinitely superior, of course, to this well- 
known democrat in choice of language and power of expres- 
sion. The same remark may apply, were I to draw any 
comparison between him and another well-known mob- 
speaker, Cobbett. Were he opposed to these two persons 
in any assembly of the people, he would infallibly prove 
himself the victor. A balcony outside a high window, and 
a large mob beneath him, is the very spot for O'ConnelL 
There he would be best seen, and his powers and person 
best observed ; but were he in the House of Commons, I 
do not think I am incorrect when I say that he would make 
little impression on the house, supposing he was heard with 
every prepossession in his favour. [It is needless to say that 
O'Connell afterward became one of the best speakers in the 



164 HISTORY OF ORATORY, 



House of Commons.] His action wants grace and suavity — 
qualities so eminently fascinating in an elegant and classical 
speaker, but which perhaps are overlooked in an ' orator of 
the people.' The motions of his body are often sharp and 
angular. His arms swing about ungracefully ; and at times 
the right hand plays slovenly with his watch-chain. 

"Though I shall not, perhaps, find many to agree with 
me, yet I am free to confess that he does not appear to me 
to possess that very rare gift — genuine satire. He wants the 
cultivated grace of language which his compeer, Sheil, pos- 
sesses, and the brilliancy of metaphor. . . . His language 
is often coarse, and seldom elegant. Strong, fierce, and per- 
haps bold, it often is ; but vituperation and personality make 
up too much of the materiel. His voice is sometimes harsh 
and dissonant ; and I could wish more of that round, full 
mellow tone, wmich is essential to a good delivery, and which 
captivates the ear. ' The voice is the key which unlocks the 
heart/ says Madame Roland. I believe it. Let the reader 
listen to the fine round voice of Lord Chief-Justice Bushe, 
and then let him hear the sometimes grating tones of O'Con- 
nell, and he will soon perceive the difference. The voice of 
the latter much reminds me of the harsh thinness of Mr. J. 
D. Latouche's (whose conversational tone by-the-by, is far 
beyond his oratorical one) ; and yet the coolness and the 
astuteness which the latter gentleman possesses in an argu- 
ment, would be no bad substitute for the headlong impetu- 
osity and violent sarcasm in which O'Connell sometimes 
indulges. 

" As he cannot clothe his language in the same elegance as 
Sheil, he consequently cannot give the same insinuation to 
his discourses. In this respect his contemporary has greatly 
the advantage. Sheil gives us the poetry of eloquence — 
O'Connell gives us the prose. The attempts of the latter at 
wit are clumsy, while the former can bring both that and 
metaphor to his aid, and he often uses them with much effect. 

" O'Connell, however, can attempt humour with effect, 
and he has a peculiar tact in suiting this humour to the 
Irish people. I have not often seen a good exordium from 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 165 



O'Connell an integral part of a discourse which it is extremely 
difficult to make ; and I think his perorations want grace, 
point, and force, and that which the Italians would denomi- 
nate ' espressivo.' " 

O'Connell was able at the bar. He was studious, indus- 
trious, and ambitious. His knowledge of human nature was 
profound. He had an athletic understanding, much sensi- 
bility, imagination, and great force of passion. His caution, 
coolness, and powers of labour were extraordinary. 

While accounted one of the best advocates of his time, he 
was also in great repute in civil cases. 

His knowledge of character, as has been said, was wonder- 
ful. He dissected the motives of parties and witnesses with 
inimitable skill. His combination of knowledge of the world 
and legal information, his aptness and ingenuity, his inex- 
haustible supply of humour, his torrents of ridicule, his zeal 
for his client, and untiring physical energies, rendered him a 
formidable antagonist at the bar. 

On one occasion O'Connell defended a man named Hogan, 
charged with murder. A hat, which the prosecution insisted 
belonged to the prisoner, was found close to the body of the 
murdered man, and this was the principal ground for suppos- 
ing that Hogan was the perpetrator of the horrible deed. 
The state of the body showed that the deceased had come 
to his death by violence, and O'Connell felt that the case for 
the prisoner required the utmost of his powers. The crown 
counsel made a strong point on the hat, which was produced 
in court. O'Connell cross-examined the neighbour of the 
prisoner who identified it. 

"'It is not different from other hats," said O'Connell. 

" Well, seemingly, but I know the hat." 

" Are you perfectly sure that this was the hat found near 
the body ? " 

" Sartin sure." 

O'Connell proceeded to inspect the caubeen, and turned up 
the lining as he looked inside. 

" Was the prisoner's name, PAT HOGAN [he spelled 
each letter slowly], in it at the time you found it?" 



1 66 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" 'T was, of course." 

" You could not be mistaken ? " 

" No, sir." 

" And all you sware is as true as that ? " 

" Quite." 

" Then go off the table this minute ! " cried O'Connell, 
triumphantly. Addressing the Judge, he said : " My lord, 
there can be no conviction here. There is no name in the 
hat ! " 

The prisoner was at once acquitted. 

O'Connell was retained in a Kerry case in which the venue 
or place of trial (it being in law a transitory action) was laid 
in Dublin. O'Connell was instructed to try and change the 
bench, so that the case might be tried in Tralee. This mo- 
tion was opposed, and Mr. Scriven, the counsel opposed to 
O'Connell, happened to be a gentleman of a very plain, 
even forbidding countenance, and of high tory politics. He 
stated that he had no knowledge of Kerry, and had never 
been in that part of Ireland. 

" Oh ! " replied O'Connell, " we '11 be very glad to wel- 
come my learned friend, and show him the lovely lakes of 
Killarney." 

" Yes," growled Mr. Scriven, " I suppose the bottom of 
them." 

" No, no," retorted O'Connell ; " I would not frighten the 
fish!" 

The criminal law in the days of O'Connell was much more 
favourable to criminals than now, when indictments may be 
amended. Many of O'Connell's triumphs in defending pris- 
oners were owing to his skill in detecting flaws in the indict- 
ments. Thus a man was charged with stealing a cow ; the 
prosecutor swore that the prisoner was caught in the field 
where he left the cow to graze, but that the carcass was 
found in the next field. O'Connell submitted the indict- 
ment was bad, for when the cow was killed it was no longer 
a cow ; and if the prisoner was to be tried for stealing a dead 
animal, it should be so stated. He relied on the dictum of 
Judge Holroyd that an indictment for stealing a dead animal 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 67 



should state it was dead ; for upon a general statement that 
a party stole the animal, it is to be intended that he stole it 
alive. 1 

The court, of course, held the indictment bad, and directed 
the jury to acquit the prisoner. It was said the cow in 
question was the fattest of a number of cows, and the night 
on which it was killed was dark as pitch. The grateful cat- 
tle-stealer came in the evening to O'Connell's lodgings, to 
thank him for having saved his life, for in those days cattle- 
stealing was punished by hanging. 

" How did you contrive to select the fattest cow when the 
night was quite dark ? " inquired O'Connell, wishing to in- 
crease his stock of useful knowledge. 

11 Well, your honour, you saved my life," replied the culprit, 
" so I will put you up to the dodge. When you go to steal 
a cow, and wish, av coorse, to take the best — for ' in for a 
penny in for a pound ' — be sure to take her that 's on the 
outside. The wakest craturs always make for the ditch fer 
shelter, but the fat bastes are outside." 

O'Connell died at Genoa, on the 15th of May, 1847. One 
of O'Connell's biographers says of him : " For several years 
he went the Munster Circuit, and gained the reputation of 
being the best criminal lawyer in Europe. He was called to 
the bar in the troubled year of 1798, and having relations in 
almost every county in Munster, he naturally selected the 
Munster Circuit. He had great personal and physical ad- 
vantages — a fine, well-developed figure, clear blue eye, feat- 
ures expressive of keen intelligence, and a voice of great 
power, now rolling like tones of a grand organ, bursting 
forth in thunder, then dying away into deep pathos, rushing 
into rapid declamation, or, if engaged in denunciation, pour- 
ing forth epithets, strong, fierce, and stinging. He was well 
versed in the technicalities of his profession, and soon his 
large practice, and the necessary reading it involved, made 
him a first-rate advocate. Then he possessed a wonderful 
knowledge of his countrymen ; and who can compete with a 
Kerry man ? He was irresistibly comic when a joke was 

1 Edwards's Case, Russell and Ryan, 497. 



1 68 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



needed, and no man was more sarcastic when vituperation 
was required. He was extremely vigilant, and never lost a 
case through inattention. It was, I believe, at Tralee he 
completely silenced an attorney who defied all gentle re- 
buke. This individual possessed a love for fighting not in- 
ferior to the Scotch terrier that lost his appetite when he 
had ' naething to worrit.' His person, we are told, was in- 
dicative of his disposition. His face was bold, menacing, 
and scornful in its expression. He had stamped upon him 
the defiance and resolution of a pugilist. Upon either tem- 
ple there stood erect a lock of hair which no brush could 
smooth down. The locks looked like horns, and added to 
the combative expression of his countenance. He was fiery 
in his nature, excessively spirited, and ejaculated rather than 
spoke to an audience ; his speeches consisting of a series of 
short, hissing, spluttering sentences, by no means devoid of 
talent of a certain kind. . . . 

"Upon the occasion referred to, this irrepressible attorney 
gave O'Connell great annoyance. He interrupted O'Connell 
several times ; he improperly addressed the witnesses as they 
mounted to the witness-chair, and altogether was quite un- 
ruly. The counsel engaged with O'Connell tried to keep 
him quiet; more than once the judge severely rebuked his 
improper interference — it was all in vain ; up he would shoot 
like a Jack-in-a-box — hiss out some remark which was sure 
to provoke O'Connell. At last, when O'Connell was press- 
ing a hostile witness with a vital question, which the witness 
was seeking to evade answering, and this individual again 
interfered, as if for the purpose of annoyance, O'Connell, 
losing all patience, scowling at this man with a stern coun- 
tenance, shouted, in a voice of thunder, ' Sit down, you 
audacious, snarling, pugnacious ramcat ! ' We are told the 
words were no sooner uttered than every one in court saw 
their truth. Judge, jury, counsel, attorneys, were convulsed 
with laughter. The judge extremely enjoyed the happy 
epithets, which completely suited the combative attorney, 
who gasped with suppressed rage. .He bore the sobriquet of 
Ramcat for the rest of his natural life." 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 69 



Canning. — George Canning, the brilliant English orator, 
was born in London, on the nth day of April, 1770. After 
his graduation from Oxford, in the twenty-second year of his 
age, he was brought into parliament by William Pitt, who had 
heard of his oratorical ability and talents, and who was 
anxious to obtain the aid of such men as Canning to resist 
the tide of opposition. 

Mr. Canning's subsequent conduct justified Pitt's choice. 
In Mr. Canning he found a warm friend, a faithful follower, 
and an ardent champion of his political measures, and after 
Mr. Pitt's death he paid many eloquent tributes to his mem- 
ory, and before he himself died he requested that in death 
they should not be separated, and when he died he was 
buried in Westminster Abbey, at the foot of Mr. Pitt's 
tomb. 

In January, 1794, Mr. Canning made his first speech in the 
House of Commons. His oratorical powers commanded re- 
spect, but did not cause that enthusiastic admiration which 
he afterward called forth when he reached the summit of his 
fame. 

In his speech on Bank-Notes - and Coin, in 181 1, Mr. Can- 
ning said : 

11 Are bank-notes equivalent to the legal standard coin of 
the realm ? This is the question which divides and agitates 
the public opinion. Says the right honourable gentleman, 
' I will devise a mode of settling this question to the satis- 
faction of the public' By advising a proclamation ? No. By 
bringing a bill into parliament ? No. By proposing to de- 
clare the joint opinion of both houses, or the separate opinion 
of one ? No. By what process then? Why, simply by telling 
the disputants that they are, and have been all along, however 
unconsciously, agreed upon the subject of their variance ; and 
gravely resolving for them, respectively, an unanimous 
opinion ! This is the very judgment, I should imagine, 
which Milton ascribes to the venerable Anarch, whom he 
represents as adjusting the disputes of the conflicting 
element : 

' Chaos umpire sits, 
And by decision more embroils the fray.' 



I/O HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" ' In public estimation,' says the right honourable gentle- 
man's resolution, 'bank-notes and coin are equivalent.' In- 
deed ! What, then, is become of all those persons who, for 
the last six months, have been, by every outward and visible 
indication, evincing, maintaining, and inculcating an opinion 
diametrically opposite? Who wrote that multitude of 
pamphlets, with the recollection of which one's head is still 
dizzy? Does the honourable gentleman apprehend that his 
arguments must have wrought their conversion ? 

" When Bonaparte, not long ago, was desirous of reconcil- 
ing the nations under his dominion to the privations re- 
sulting from the exclusion of all colonial produce, he 
published an edict, which commenced in something like the 
following manner: ' Whereas, sugar made from beet-root, 
or the maple-tree, is infinitely preferable to that of the 
sugar-cane,' — and he then proceeded to denounce penalties 
against those who should persist in the use of the inferior 
commodity. The denunciation might be more effectual than 
the right honourable gentleman's resolution, but the pre- 
amble did not go near so far; for, though it asserted the 
superiority of the maple and beet-root sugar, it rested that 
assertion merely on the authority of the state, and did not 
pretend to sanction it by 'public estimation.' 

" When Galileo first promulgated the doctrine that the 
earth turned round the sun, and that the sun remained 
stationary in the centre of the universe, the holy fathers of 
the Inquisition took alarm at so daring an innovation, and 
forthwith declared the first of these propositions to be false 
and heretical, and the other to be erroneous in point of faith. 
The Holy Office ' pledged itself to believe ' that the earth 
was stationary, and the sun movable. This pledge had 
little effect in changing the natural course of things ; the sun 
and the earth continued, in spite of it, to preserve their 
accustomed relations to each other, just as the coin and the 
bank-note will, in spite of the right honourable gentleman's 
resolution. 

" Let us leave the evil, if it must be so, to the chance of 
a gradual and noiseless correction. But let us not resolve, 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLA ND. 1 7 1 



as law, what is an incorrect and imperfect exposition of the 
law. Let us not resolve, as fact, what is contradictory to 
universal experience. Let us not expose ourselves to ridi- 
cule by resolving, as the opinions of the people, opinions 
which the people do not, and which it is impossible they 
should, entertain." 

On Mr. Tierney's motion December 11, 1798, Mr. Can- 
ning said : 

" The friendship of Holland ! The independence of Spain ! 
Is there a man so besotted as to suppose that there is one 
hour of peace w T ith France preserved by either of these un- 
happy countries, that there is one syllable of friendship 
uttered by them towards France, but what is extorted by 
the immediate pressure, or by the dread and terror, of 
French arms ? — 

' Mouth-honour, breath, 
Which the poor heart would fain refuse, but dare not ! ' 

Have the regenerated republic of Holland, the degraded 
monarchy of Spain, such reason to rejoice in the protection 
of the French republic, that they would voluntarily throw 
themselves between her and any blow which might menace 
her existence ? 

" But does the honourable gentleman intend his motion 
as a motion for peace ? If he really thinks this a moment for 
opening a negotiation, why has he not the candour and manli- 
ness to say so ? Mark, I entreat you, how delicately he 
manages it ! He will not speak to France, but he would speak 
at her. He will not propose — not he — that we should say to the 
Directory, ' Will you make peace? ' No, sir; we are merely 
to say to ourselves, loud enough for the Directory to over- 
hear us, 'I wish these French gentlemen would make an 
overture to us.' Now, sir, does this save the dignity of the 
country? or is it only a sneaking, shabby way of doing what, 
if fit to be done at all, must, to have any serious effect, be 
done openly, unequivocally, and directly ? But I beg the 
honourable gentleman's pardon ; — I misrepresent him ; I 
certainly do. His motion does not amount even to so much 



172 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



as I have stated. He begins further off. The soliloquy 
which he prompts us, by his motion, is no more than this : 
' We must continue to make war against France, to be sure, 
— and we are sorry for it ; but we will not do it as if we bore 
malice. We will not make an ill-natured, hostile kind of 
war any longer, — that we wont. And who knows but, if 
they should happen to overhear this resolution, as the Di- 
rectory are good-natured at bottom, their hearts may soften 
and grow kind towards us — and then they will offer to make a 
peace ! ' And thus, sir, and thus only, is the motion a 
motion for peace. 

■" Since then, sir, this motion appears to me to be founded 
on no principle of policy or necessity ; since, if it be intended 
for a censure on ministers, it is unjust, — if for a control, it is 
nugatory ; as its tendency is to impair the power of prose- 
cuting war with vigour, and to diminish the chance of nego- 
tiating peace with dignity, or concluding it with safety ; as 
it contradicts, without reason, and without advantage, the 
established policy of our ancestors ; as it must degrade in 
the eyes of the world the character of this country ; as it 
must carry dismay and terror throughout Europe : and, 
above all, as it must administer consolation, and hope, 
and power, and confidence, to France, — I shall give it my 
most hearty and decided negative." 

On Men and Measures, Mr. Canning expressed the 
following sentiments : 

" If I am pushed to the wall, and forced to speak my 
opinion, I have no disguise nor reservation : — I do think 
that this is a time when the administration of the govern- 
ment ought to be in the ablest and fittest hands; I do not 
think the hands in which it is now placed answer to that 
description. I do not pretend to conceal in what quarter I 
think that fitness most eminently resides ; I do not subscribe 
to the doctrines which have been advanced, that, in times 
like the present, the fitness of individuals for their political 
situation is no part of the consideration to which a member 
of parliament may fairly turn his attention. I know not a 
more solemn or important duty that a member of parliament 



OR A TOR Y /AT ENGL A ND. 1 7 3 



can have to discharge, than by giving, at fit seasons, a free 
opinion upon the character and qualities of public men. 
Away with the cant of ' measures, not men ! ' the idle sup- 
position that it is the harness, and not the horses, that draw 
the chariot along! No, sir; if the comparison must be 
made, if the distinction must be taken, men are everything, 
measures comparatively nothing. I speak, sir, of times of 
difficulty and danger; of times when systems are shaken, 
when precedents and general rules of conduct fail. Then it 
is that, not to this or that measure, however prudently 
devised, however blameless in execution, — but to the energy 
and character of individuals, a state must be indebted for 
its' salvation. Then it is that kingdoms rise or fall in pro- 
portion as they are upheld, not by well-meant endeavours 
(laudable though they may be), but by commanding, over- 
awing talents, — by able men. 

" And what is the nature of the times in which we live ? 
Look at France, and see what we have to cope with, and 
consider what has made her what she is. A man ! You 
will tell me that she was great, and powerful, and formid- 
able, before the days of Bonaparte's government ; that he 
found in her great physical and moral resources ; that he 
had but to turn them to account. True, and he did so. 
Compare the situation in which he found France with that 
to which he has raised her. I am no panegyrist of Bona- 
parte ; but I cannot shut my eyes to the superiority of his 
talents, to the amazing ascendancy of his genius. Tell me 
not of his measures and his policy. It is his genius, his 
character, that keeps the world in awe. Sir, to meet, to 
check, to curb, to stand up against him, we want arms of the 
same kind. I am far from objecting to the large military 
establishments which are proposed to you. I vote for them 
with all my heart. But, for the purpose of coping with 
Bonaparte, one great, commanding spirit is worth them all." 

On the Philosophy of Hatred, Mr. Canning made the 
following remarks : 

" My honourable friend has expended abundant research 
and subtility upon this inquiry, and having resolved the 



174 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



phrase into its elements, in the crucible of his philosophical 
mind, has produced it to us purified and refined, to a degree 
that must command the admiration of all who take delight 
in metaphysical alchemy. My honourable and learned 
friend began by telling us, that, after all, hatred is no bad 
thing in itself. ' I hate a tory,' says my honourable friend — 
' and another man hates a cat ; but it does not follow that 
he would hunt down the cat, or I the tory.' Nay, so far 
from it — hatred, if it be properly managed, is, according to 
my honourable friend's theory, no bad preface to a rational 
esteem and affection. It prepares its votaries for a reconcili- 
ation of differences — for lying down with their most invet- 
erate enemies, like the leopard and the kid, in the vision of 
the prophet. This dogma is a little startling, but it is not 
altogether without precedent. It is borrowed from a char- 
acter in a play which is, I dare say, as great a favourite with 
my learned friend as it is with me : I mean, the comedy of 
The Rivals ; in which Mrs. Malaprop, giving a lecture on 
the subject of marriage to her niece, (who is unreasonable 
enough to talk of liking, as a necessary preliminary to such 
an union,) says: 'What have you to do with your likings 
and your preferences, child ? Depend upon it, it is safest to 
begin with a little aversion. I am sure I hated your poor 
dear uncle like a blackamoor, before we were married ; and 
yet you know, my dear, what a good wife I made him/ 
Such is my learned friend's argument to a hair. But finding 
that this doctrine did not appear to go down with the house 
so glibly as he had expected, my honourable and learned 
friend presently changed his tack, and put forward a theory 
which, whether for novelty or for beauty, I pronounce to be 
incomparable, and, in short, as wanting nothing to recommend 
it but a slight foundation in truth. ' True philosophy,' says my 
honourable friend, ' will always continue to lead men to virtue 
by the instrumentality of their conflicting vices. The vir- 
tues, where more than one exist, may live harmoniously 
together ; but the vices bear moral antipathy to one another, 
and therefore furnish, to the moral engineer, the power by 
which he can make each keep the other under control,' 



OR A TOR V IN ENGLAND. 1 75 



Admirable ! but, upon this doctrine, the poor man who has 
but one single vice must be in a very bad way. No fulcrum, 
no moral power for effecting his cure. Whereas his more 
fortunate neighbour, who has two or more vices in his com- 
position, is in a fair way of becoming a very virtuous mem- 
ber of society. I wonder how my learned friend would like 
to have this doctrine introduced into his domestic establish- 
ment. For instance, suppose that I discharge a servant 
because he is addicted to liquor, I could not venture to 
recommend him to my honourable and learned friend. It 
might be the poor man's only fault, and therefore clearly 
incorrigible. But if I had the good fortune to find out that 
he was also addicted to stealing, might I not, with a safe 
conscience, send him to my learned friend with a strong 
recommendation, saying, I send you a man whom I know to 
be a drunkard, but I am happy to assure you he is also a 
thief ; you cannot do better than employ him ; you will 
make his drunkenness counteract his thievery, and no doubt 
you will bring him out of the conflict a very moral 
personage ? " 

Mr. Canning dressed plainly, but in excellent taste. He 
seemed to partake, in most things, of the character of his 
eloquence : open and manly, with that consciousness of 
power which is consistent with modesty, and consequently 
simple and unpretentious. 

In the prime of life, he was a handsome man, tall, well- 
formed, strong, and active. 

He had a mild and expressive countenance indicative of 
intellect and firmness. His head was bald, his forehead 
lofty and broad, " his eyes reflective and at times lively." 

Lord Brougham has given us the following estimate of 
his oratory : 

" His declamation, though often powerful, always beauti- 
fully ornate, never deficient in admirable diction, was cer- 
tainly not of the highest class. It wanted depth ; it came 
from the mouth, not from the heart ; and it tickled or even 
filled the ear rather than penetrated the bosom of the lis- 
tener. The orator never seemed to forget himself and be 



\j6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



absorbed in his theme ; he was not carried away by his 
passions, and he carried not his audience along with him. 
An actor stood before us, a first-rate one, no doubt, but still 
an actor ; and we never forgot that it was a representation 
we were witnessing, not a real scene. The Grecian artist 
was of the second class only, at whose fruit the birds pecked ; 
while, on seeing Parrhasius's picture, men cried out to have 
the curtain drawn aside. Mr. Canning's declamation en- 
tertained his hearers, so artistically was it executed ; but 
only an inexperienced critic could mistake it for the highest 
reach of rhetorical art. The truly great orator is he who 
carries away his hearer, or fixes his whole attention on the 
subject — with the subject fills his whole soul — than the sub- 
ject, will suffer him to think of no other thing — of the 
subject's existence alone will let him be conscious, while 
the vehement inspiration lasts on his own mind which he 
communicates to his hearer — and will only suffer him to re- 
flect on the admirable execution of what he has heard after 
the burst is over, the whirlwind has passed away, and the ex- 
cited feelings have in the succeeding lull sunk into repose." 

Brougham. — Henry Brougham was born in Edinburgh 
on the 19th day of September, 1779. He obtained the 
rudiments of his education at the High School in that city. 

He entered the University of Edinburgh at the age of 
sixteen, and soon became noted for his attainments in 
mathematical studies. His knowledge of science was, in- 
deed, extraordinary, for one so young. Before he was 
seventeen years of age, his essay on the " Flection and 
Reflection of Light was inserted in the Edinburgh Philo- 
sophical Transactions, 

After completing his college course, Mr. Brougham 
studied law, as a profession. He was soon called to the 
bar, and began his practice with great success in Edinburgh. 
He gave a large share of his time to history, politics, and 
literature, besides attending to'his legal business. 

Brougham was one of the most remarkable men of 
modern times. He was a lawyer, a statesman, an author, 
and a scientist. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 77 



Lord Campbell, who does not do him justice, in his 
Lives of the Chancellors ^ after reciting the fact that in 
parliament he spoke on every occasion and on every sub- 
ject, says that in his opinion, " of all the sons of men, 
since the flood at least, Brougham had uttered the most 
words by. far." It has been the fashion, of late, to speak 
slightingly of Brougham's ability as a lawyer, but his critics 
indulge in general observations, and fail to give particular 
instances which prove their statements to be true. He had, 
at the time of his elevation to the bench, a lucrative prac- 
tice, and as he was employed in many of the most import- 
ant causes which were tried while he was at the bar, and 
was opposed to the greatest advocates of his day, his ineffi- 
ciency or shallowness would have soon been shown if he 
had not been a well read lawyer and an accomplished advo- 
cate. His stock of knowledge was simply prodigious. 
Campbell says : " If shut up in a tower without books, at 
the end of a year he would have produced (barring a few 
ludicrous blunders) a very tolerable Encyclopedia." 

If Brougham had known less of other subjects, his critics 
would have doubtless thought him a more profound lawyer. 
The world will not tolerate an assumption of universal 
knowledge, even if it is well founded. 

In trivial causes Brougham could not rouse himself to 
take the interest he always manifested in important mat- 
ters. In cases involving any great principle of civil or 
religious liberty, Brougham was perhaps the equal of any 
of his contemporaries. It is said that he usually rose, "in 
a calm and collected manner, enunciated a few sentences 
in a subdued tone, expressive of the sense he entertained of 
the importance of the task he had undertaken, and solicited 
the indulgence of the jury while he trespassed on their 
attention for a short time. He then proceeded, in slow 
accents and in measured sentences, to develop the gener- 
alities of the case, gradually rising in animation of manner 
and increasing in the loudness of his voice and the rapidity 
of his utterance, until he arrived at the most important parts 
of his subject. The first indication he usually gave of 



178 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



having reached those points in his speech to which he meant 
to apply all the energies of his mind, was that of pulling his 
gown further up on his shoulders, and putting his tall, gaunt 
figure into as erect and commanding a posture as he could 
assume without endangering his equilibrium. Then came 
his vehement gesticulation — the rapid movement ©f his right 
arm, with an occasional wafture of the left hand, and the 
turning and twisting of his body into every variety of form. 
His eye, which before was destitute of fire, and his features, 
which were composed and placid as those of a marble statue, 
were now pressed as auxiliaries into the service of his client. 
His eye flashed with the fire of one whose bosom heaved 
with tumultuous emotions, and the whole expression of his 
face was that of a man whose mind was worked up to the 
utmost intensity of feeling. And this was really the case 
with Brougham wherever the interests of his client were 
identified with some great principle. 

" To have seen him in some of these moods was truly a 
spectacle worthy of name. It was only on such occasions 
that any accurate estimate could be formed of the vast re- 
sources of his mind. He then poured from his lips strains 
of the loftiest order of eloquence. Idea followed idea, 
principle succeeded principle, illustration accompanied illus- 
tration with a rapidity which was astonishing. One moment 
he was strictly argumentative — the next declamatory. Now 
he stated, in a winning language and in an engaging manner, 
whatever was in favour of his client — then he inveighed in 
the fiercest strains and in tones which resounded through 
the place in which he spoke, against that client's opponent. 
In such moments there would have been something abso- 
lutely withering to him against whom his denunciations were 
directed in the very countenance of the orator, even had he 
not uttered a word. His dark, bristly hair stood on end, or 
at least appeared to do so. His brow was knit. There was 
a piercing stare and wildness in his eye ; and his sallow com- 
plexion and haggard features altogether presented an aspect 
which it was frightful to behold. The jury on such occasions 
often forgot the purpose for which they had been called into 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 79 



court ; they forgot the case in the advocate. He diverted 
their minds from the subject-matter before them to himself. 
They lost sight, for the moment, of the merits of the case 
they were impanelled to decide, in their boundless admira- 
tion of the gigantic talents and brilliant eloquence of the 
speaker. 

" The jury often, in some of Brougham's happier ef- 
forts, forgot, for the time, that they were jurymen. In 
the court not a breath was to be heard ; all was still, save 
his own powerful though somewhat harsh voice. In his 
denunciations of witnesses whose testimony had made 
against his client, he was terrible. And yet, notwithstand- 
ing all the vehemence of his manner, and the intensity of 
passion into which he worked himself, his speeches, though 
he sometimes purposely wandered from the principal point 
before the court, were as well arranged, and every sentence 
was as correctly constructed — that is to say, according to 
the massy and involved style which he always preferred — 
as they could have been had he been speaking in the calm- 
est and most collected manner. He seldom displayed much 
legal knowledge ; and though he could on occasion argue 
closely, he very rarely in his greatest efforts exhibited much 
of argumentative acuteness. He disdained, indeed, when 
he threw his whole soul into his speeches, to be fettered by 
what he considered in such a case the trammels of law or 
logic. Hence he could not so well be said to have gained 
the great triumphs he so often achieved at the bar by con- 
vincing, as by confounding, the jury, — just as we often see a 
person silenced rather than convinced by the dexterity of a 
skilful disputant. Mr. Brougham may be said to have taken 
the jury on such occasions by storm. He compelled them to 
surrender themselves to him. His appeals to their feelings 
and passions were so powerful, and his eloquence so dazzling, 
that he deprived them for a time of the capacity of dis- 
passionately examining and comparing the conflicting evi- 
dence- on either side. It is true that the cool and careful 
summing up of the judge followed his address ; but the 
impressions made on their minds by that address were not 



180 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



yet effaced. Apparently they were all attention to the 
statements and observations of the judge, but in reality 
they scarcely knew what he was saying. The penetrating 
and expressive looks of Brougham still haunted their mental 
vision ; his vehement and impressive, though often uncouth, 
gesticulation was still before them ; the deep and varied in- 
tonations of his voice still rang in their ears ; and the matchless 
and overwhelming brilliance of his eloquence continued to 
exert its way in their minds to the exclusion of everything 
else. It is in this way alone that the fact can be accounted 
for, that he often extorted a verdict from the jury in favour 
of his client when it was equally notorious to the bench and 
every professional gentleman in court, that all the law and 
the argument were on the opposite side." 

Lord Brougham sometimes prepared speeches which he 
delivered to juries, but ordinarily he is said to have spoken 
without having made the least previous preparation, farther 
than making himself acquainted with the facts in the case. 
No one had the ability to master the details of a case more 
perfectly than Brougham in the short time he usually de- 
voted to this task. He was resourceful, and he depended 
upon the inspiration of the moment for the language he 
used. But when he was to speak on an extraordinary occa- 
sion he prepared his speeches, or at least portions of them, 
with great care. He prepared the peroration of his speech 
before the House of Lords in Queen Caroline's case with 
such care that he re-wrote it no less than seventeen times 
before it suited him. 

Sergeant Talfourd's estimate of Lord Brougham as an 
advocate is both interesting and instructive. He said of 
him : " Mr. Brougham may, at first, appear to form an ex- 
ception to the doctrines we have endeavoured to establish ; 
but, on attentive consideration, will be found their most 
striking example. True it is that this extraordinary man, 
who, without high birth, splendid fortune, or aristocratic 
connection, has, by mere intellectual power, become the 
parliamentary leader of the whigs of England, is at last be- 
ginning to succeed in the profession he has condescended to 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 8 1 



follow. But, stupendous as his abilities, and various as his 
acquisitions are, he has that one presiding faculty, imagi- 
nation, which, as it concentrates all others, chiefly renders 
them unavailing for inferior uses. Mr. Brougham's powers 
are not thus united and rendered unwieldy and prodigious, 
but remain apart, and neither assist nor impede each other. 
The same speech, indeed, may give scope to several talents — 
to lucid narration, to brilliant wit, to irresistible reasoning, 
and even to heart-touching pathos ; but these will be found 
in parcels, not blended and interfused in one superhuman 
burst of passionate eloquence. The single power in which 
he excels all others is sarcasm, and his deepest inspiration — 
scorn. Hence he can awaken terror and shame far better 
than he can melt, agitate, and raise. Animated by this 
blasting spirit, he can ' bare the mean hearts ' which ' lurk 
beneath ' a hundred ' stars,' and smite a majority of lordly 
persecutors into the dust ! His power is all directed to the 
practical and earthy. It is rather that of a giant than a 
magician ; of Briareus than of Prospero. He can do a hun- 
dred things well, and almost at once ; but he cannot do the 
one highest thing : he cannot by a single touch reveal the 
hidden treasures of the soul, and astonish the world with 
truth and beauty unknown till disclosed at his bidding. 
Over his vast domain he ranges with amazing activity, 
and is a different man in each province which he occu- 
pies. He is not one but legion. At three in the morn- 
ing he will make a reply in parliament, which shall 
blanch the cheeks and appal the hearts of his ene- 
mies ; and at half past nine he will be found at his 
place in court, working out a case, in which a bill of five 
pounds is disputed, with all the plodding care of the most 
laborious junior. This multiplicity of avocation, and divi- 
sion of talent, suit the temper of his constitution and mind. 
Not only does he accomplish a greater variety of purposes 
than any other man — not only does he give anxious atten- 
tion to every petty cause, while he is fighting a great politi- 
cal battle, and weighing the relative interests of nations — 
not only does he write an article for the Edinburgh Review, 



1 82 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



while contesting a county, and prepare complicated argu- 
ments on Scotch appeals by way of rest from his generous 
endeavours to educate a people ; but he does all this as if it 
were perfectly natural to him, in a manner so unpretending 
and quiet, that a stranger would think him a merry gentle- 
man, who had nothing to do but to enjoy himself and fas- 
cinate others. The fire which burns in the tough fibres of 
his intellect does not quicken his pulse, or kindle his blood 
to more than a genial warmth. He, therefore, is one man 
in the senate, another in the study, another in a committee 
room, and another in a petty cause ; and consequently is 
never above the work which he has to perform. His powers 
are all as distinct and as ready for use as those of the most 
accomplished of Old Bailey practitioners. His most remark- 
able faculty, taken singly, the power of sarcasm, can be 
understood even by a Lancaster jury. And yet, though 
worthy to rank with statesmen before whom Erskine sank 
into insignificance, and though following his profession with 
zeal and perseverance almost unequalled, he has hardly 
been able to conquer the impediment of that splendid 
reputation, which to any other man must have been fatal." 

Brougham was greatly interested in the question of Law 
Reform, and the following extract from his speech on that 
subject affords a good specimen of his manner : 

" You saw the greatest warrior of the age, — conqueror of 
Italy, humbler of Germany, terror of the North, — saw him 
account all his matchless victories poor compared with the 
triumph you are now in a condition to win, — saw him con- 
temn the fickleness of fortune, while in despite of her he 
could pronounce his memorable boast : ' I shall go down to 
posterity with the Code in my hand.' You have vanquished 
him in the field ; strive now to rival him in the sacred arts 
of peace ! Outstrip him as lawyer whom in arms you over- 
came ! The lustre of the Regency will be eclipsed by the 
more solid and enduring splendour of the Reign. It was 
the boast of Augustus, — it formed part of the glare in which 
the perfidies of his earlier years were lost, — that he found 
Rome of brick and left it of marble. But how much nobler 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 83 



will be the Sovereign's boast when he shall have it to say, 
that he found law dear and left it cheap ; found it a sealed 
book, left it a living letter ; found it the patrimony of the 
rich, left it the inheritance of the poor ; found it the two- 
edged sword of craft and oppression, left it the staff of 
honesty and the shield of innocence ! " 

That he could be severe when tried, the following quota- 
tion from his speech in the House of Lords on the Emanci- 
pation of Negro Apprentices, will afford ample evidence : 

" I have read with astonishment and I repel with scorn 
the insinuation that I had acted the part of an advocate, and 
that some of my statements were collected to serve a cause. 
How dares any man so to accuse me? How dares anyone, 
skulking under a fictitious name, to launch his slanderous 
imputations from his covert ? I come forward in my own 
person. I make the charge in the face of day. I drag the 
criminal to trial. I openly call down justice on his head. 
I defy his attacks. I defy his defenders. I challenge inves- 
tigation. How dares any concealed adversary to charge me 
as an advocate speaking from a brief, and misrepresenting 
the facts to serve a purpose ? But the absurdity of this 
charge even outstrips its malice." 

Lord Brougham had a just appreciation of the character 
of Washington, and paid him the following tribute : 

" How grateful the relief which the friend of mankind, the 
lover of virtue, experiences, when, turning from the con- 
templation of such a character as Napoleon, his eye rests 
upon the greatest man of our own or any age, — the only 
man upon whom an epithet, so thoughtlessly lavished by 
men, to foster the crimes of their worst enemies, may be 
innocently and justly bestowed ! 

" This eminent person is presented to our observation, 
clothed in attributes as modest, as unpretending, as little 
calculated to strike or to astonish, as if he had passed 
unknown through some secluded region of private life. But 
he had a judgment sure and sound ; a steadiness of mind 
which never suffered any passion, or even any feeling, to 
ruffle its calm ; a strength of understanding which worked 



1 84 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



rather than forced its way through all obstacles, — remov- 
ing or avoiding rather than overleaping them. 

" If these things, joined to the most absolute self-denial, 
the most habitual and exclusive devotion to principle, can 
constitute a great character, without either quickness of ap- 
prehension, remarkable resources of information, or inven- 
tive powers, or any brilliant quality that might dazzle the 
vulgar, — then surely Washington was the greatest man that 
ever lived in this world, uninspired by divine wisdom, and 
unsustained by supernatural virtue. 

" His courage, whether in battle or in council, was as per- 
fect as might be expected from this pure and steady temper 
of soul. A perfect just man, with a thoroughly firm resolu- 
tion never to be misled by others, any more than to be by 
others overawed ; never to be seduced or betrayed, or hur- 
ried away by his own weaknesses or self-delusions, any more 
than by other men's arts ; nor ever to be disheartened by 
the most complicated difficulties, any more than to be 
spoilt on the giddy heights of fortune ; — such was this great 
man. 

" Great he was, pre-eminently great, whether we regard him. 
sustaining alone the whole weight of campaigns all but des- 
perate, or gloriously terminating a just warfare by his re- 
sources and his courage ; presiding over the jarring elements 
of his political council, alike deaf to the storms of all ex- 
tremes, or directing the formation of a new government for 
a great people, the first time that so vast an experiment had 
ever been tried by man ; or, finally, retiring from the su- 
preme power to which his virtue had raised him over the 
nation he had created, and whose destinies he had guided as 
long as his aid was required, — retiring with the veneration 
of all parties, of all nations, of all mankind, in order that the 
rights of men might be conserved, and that his example 
never might be appealed to by vulgar tyrants. 

" This is the consummate glory of Washington : a trium- 
phant warrior where the most sanguine had a right to de- 
spair ; a successful ruler in all the difficulties of a course 
wholly untried ; but a warrior, whose sword only left its 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 185 



sheath when the first law of our nature commanded it to be 
drawn ; and a ruler who, having tasted of supreme power, 
gently and unostentatiously desired that the cup might pass 
from him, nor would suffer more to wet his lips than the 
most solemn and sacred duty to his country and his God 
required ! 

" To his latest breath did this great patriot maintain the 
noble character of a captain the patron of peace, and a 
statesman the friend of justice. Dying, he bequeathed to 
his heirs the sword which he had worn in the war for liberty, 
and charged them ' never to take it from the scabbard but 
in self-defence, or in defence of their country and her free- 
dom ' ; and commanded them that, 'when it should thus be 
drawn, they should never sheathe it, nor ever give it up, but 
prefer falling with it in their hands to the relinquishment 
thereof,' — words, the majesty and simple eloquence of 
which are not surpassed in the oratory of Athens and 
Rome. 

" It will be the duty of the historian and the sage, in all 
ages, to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustri- 
ous man ; and, until time shall be no more, will a test of the 
progress which our race has made in wisdom and in virtue 
be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name 
of Washington ! " 

In 1830, speaking of the fate of the Reformer, Lord 
Brougham said : 

" I have heard it said that, when one lifts up his voice 
against things that are, and wishes for a change, he is rais- 
ing a clamour against existing institutions, a clamour against 
our venerable establishments, a clamour against the law of 
the land ; but this is no clamour against the one or the other, 
— it is a clamour against the abuse of them all. It is a 
clamour raised against the grievances that are felt. Mr. 
Burke, who was no friend to popular excitement, — who was 
no ready tool of agitation, no hot-headed enemy of existing 
establishments, no under-valuer of the wisdom of our ances- 
tors, no scoffer against institutions as they are, — has said, 
and it deserves to be fixed, in letters of gold, over the hall 



1 86 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of every assembly which calls itself a legislative body : 
' Where there is abuse, there ought to be clamour ; 
because it is better to have our slumber broken by 
the fire-bell, than to perish, amidst the flames, in 
OUR BED.' I have been told, by some who have little ob- 
jection to the clamour, that I am a timid and a mock re- 
former ; and by others, if I go on firmly and steadily, and 
do not allow myself to be driven aside by either one outcry 
or another, and care for neither, that it is a rash and danger- 
ous innovation which I propound ; and that I am taking, for 
the subject of my reckless experiments, things which are the 
objects of all men's veneration. I disregard the one as much 
as I disregard the other of these charges. 

* False honour charms, and lying slander scares, 
Whom, but the false and faulty ? ' 

" It has been the lot of all men, in all ages, who have aspired 
at the honour of guiding, instructing, or mending mankind, to 
have their paths beset by every persecution from adversaries, 
by every misconstruction from friends ; no quarter from the 
one, — no charitable construction from the other ! To be 
misconstrued, misrepresented, borne down, till it was in 
vain to bear down any longer, has been their fate. But 
truth will survive, and calumny has its day. I say that, if 
this be the fate of the reformer, — if he be the object of mis- 
representation, — may not an inference be drawn favourable 
to myself? Taunted by the enemies of reform as being too 
rash, by the over-zealous friends of reform as being too slow 
or too cold, there is every reason for presuming that I have 
chosen the right course. A reformer must proceed steadily 
in his career ; not misled, on the one hand, by panegyric, 
nor discouraged by slander, on the other. He wants no 
praise. I would rather say, ' Woe to him when all men 
speak well of him ! ' I shall go on in the course which I 
have laid down for myself ; pursuing the footsteps of those 
who have gone before us, who have left us their instructions 
and success, — their instructions to guide our walk, and their 
success to cheer our spirits/' 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. \%J 



Lord Brougham made the following comparison between 
the conqueror and the schoolmaster : 

" But there is nothing which the adversaries of improve- 
ment are more w r ont to make themselves merry with than 
what is termed the ' march of intellect'; and here I will 
confess, that I think, as far as the phrase goes, they are in 
the right. It is a very absurd, because a very incorrect ex- 
pression. It is little calculated to describe the operation in 
question. It does not picture an image at all resembling 
the proceedings of the true friends of mankind. It much 
more resembles the progress of the enemy to all improve- 
ment. The conqueror moves in a march. He stalks on- 
ward with the ' pride, pomp, and circumstance of war ' — 
banners flying — shouts rending the air — guns thundering 
— and martial music pealing, to drown the shrieks of the 
wounded and the lamentations for the slain. 

" Not thus the schoolmaster, in his peaceful vocation. He 
meditates and prepares in secret the plans which are to bless 
mankind ; he slowly gathers round him those who are to 
further their execution ; he quietly, though firmly, advances 
in his humble path, labouring steadily, but calmly, till he has 
opened to the light all the recesses of ignorance, and torn 
up by the roots the weeds of vice. His is a progress not to 
be compared with anything like a march ; but it leads to a 
far more brilliant triumph, and to laurels more imperishable 
than the destroyer of his species, the scourge of the world, 
ever won. 

" Such men — men deserving the glorious title of Teachers 
of Mankind — I have found, labouring conscientiously, though, 
perhaps, obscurely, in their blessed vocation, wherever I have 
gone. I have found them, and shared their fellowship, 
among the daring, the ambitious, the ardent, the indomi- 
tably active French ; I have found them among the perse- 
vering, resolute, industrious Swiss ; I have found them among 
the laborious, the warm-hearted, the enthusiastic Germans ; 
I have found them among the high-minded, but enslaved 
Italians ; and in our own country, God be thanked ! their 
numbers everywhere abound, and are every day increasing. 



1 88 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" Their calling is high and holy ; their fame is the property 
of nations ; their renown will fill the earth in after ages, in 
proportion as it sounds not far off in their own times. Each 
one of those great teachers of the world, possessing his soul 
in peace, performs his appointed course ; awaits in patience 
the fulfilment of the promises ; and, resting from his labours, 
bequeaths his memory to the generation whom his works 
have blessed, and sleeps under the humble but not inglorious 
epitaph, commemorating ' one in whom mankind lost a 
friend, and no man got rid of an enemy.' " 

Lord Brougham died at Cannes, upon the 7th day of May, 
1868, in the ninetieth year of his age. 

Nothwithstanding his faults, and they were many, Lord 
Brougham had, at bottom, genuine warmth of heart and 
good nature. He was an affectionate son, and a devoted 
parent and brother, and keenly sensible to the sufferings 
and sympathies of the poor. 

Erskine. — Lord Erskine was, undoubtedly, one of the 
most remarkable advocates of any age or country, and 
the history of his life cannot be too carefully studied by 
the student of forensic oratory. His successes at the bar 
were not accidental. They were due to his own indefatigable 
energy and industry. His competitors for fame had been, 
almost without a notable exception, educated at the public 
schools and English universities, and while they were being 
instructed by the ablest teachers which could be found, he 
was laying in the stores of knowledge which were, after- 
wards, so useful to him, on board a man-of-war, or in the 
barracks of a marching regiment. To an ordinary aspirant 
for intellectual distinction, the difficulties which confronted 
Erskine would have proved insurmountable, but instead of 
being discouraged by them, Erskine was only stimulated to 
greater exertion. 

In a small and poorly furnished room in an upper " flat " 
of a very high house in Edinburgh, Thomas Erskine was 
born, on the 10th day of January, 1750. He was the 
youngest son of Henry David, tenth Earl of Buchan, and 
counted in his line many distinguished ancestors. One of 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 1 89 



these distinguished ancestors, whose name it is not neces- 
sary to mention, having wasted the ample patrimony which 
once belonged to the family, Henry David was left with a 
very large family and a very small income, amounting to 
about .£200 a year. His wife was a most extraordinary 
woman, equally eminent for piety, and good common-sense. 
She was the daughter of Sir James Stewart of Goodtrees in 
the county of Mid-Lothian. Erskine's parents were com- 
pelled to abandon an old castle standing on their small 
estate, for the wretched habitation in Edinburgh which has 
been mentioned, where their poverty would not be so con- 
spicuous and their children better educated. Erskine's 
mother taught her children to read, and instilled at an early 
age, into their minds, the doctrines of the Presbyterian faith. 

That buoyancy of spirit and sprightliness of fancy which 
he was noted for in after life was discovered in his youth. 
He attended for some years the High School of Edinburgh, 
eating, with considerable fortitude, his oatmeal porridge for 
breakfast, and soup maigre, called " kail," for dinner. Not- 
withstanding the economy practised, Edinburgh was found 
too expensive for the slender finances of the family, and in 
1762 they removed to St. Andrew's in Fife, where house 
rent was lower, and educational advantages not inferior. 

At this time Erskine is said to have been " of quick parts 
and retentive memory, rather idly inclined, but capable of 
great application, — full of fun and frolic, — and ever the 
favourite of his master and his playmates." 

One of his letters, written at this period to his eldest 
brother, Lord Cardross, who was then at Edinburgh, is of 
interest : 

41 My Dear Brother : 

" I received your letter, and it gave me great joy to hear 
that you were in health, which I hope will always continue. 
I am in my second month at the dancing-school. I have 
learned shantrews and the single hornpipe, and am just now 
learning the double-hornpipe. There is a pretty large Norway 
ship in the harbour; the captain took Harry and me into the 



I90 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



cabin, and entertained us with French claret, Danish biscuit, 
and smoked salmon ; and the captain was up in the town 
seeing Papa to-day. He is to sail on Friday, because the 
stream is great. Yesterday I saw Captain Sutherland exer- 
cise his party of Highlanders, which I liked very well to see. 
In the time of the vacation Harry and me writes themes, reads 
Livy and French, with Mr. Douglas, between ten and eleven. 
Papa made me a present of a ring-dial, which I am very fond 
of, for it tells me what o'clock it is very exactly. You bid 
me, in your last letter, write to you when I had nothing bet- 
ter to do : but, I assure you, I think I cannot employ myself 
better than to write to you, which I shall take care to do very 
often. Adieu, my dear brother, and believe me, with great 
affection. 

" Yours, T. E." 

This note is said to have been very neatly written with lines. 
His grammatical errors in speaking of himself and brother 
Harry cannot fairly be complained of, for in fraternal affec- 
tion they were one. 

At the grammar school of St. Andrew's, under Mr. Hack- 
ett, whose scholarly attainments were not equal to his zeal as 
a teacher, Erskine attained only a moderate proficiency in 
Latin, and learned little of Greek beyond the alphabet. 
But happily for him he was taught to compose in English, as 
if it had been a foreign tongue, and being extremely fond of 
books, he read many volumes of English poems, plays, voy- 
ages, and travels. It is said that he was never matriculated 
in the university of St. Andrew's, but in the session of 1762-3 
he attended the mathematical and natural philosophy classes, 
taught by professors of considerable eminence, and from 
them he imbibed the small portion of science of which he 
could ever boast. 

Early in life he began to consider, with a seriousness which 
could not have been expected from one of his years and gay 
disposition, how he was to make his way in the world. His 
parents were so poor that they could do nothing better than 
send him to sea as a midshipman, but being desirous of 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 191 



improving his mind, and of being bred to one of the learned 
professions, and having a particular aversion to the sea ser- 
vice, he asked that a commission in the army might be pro- 
cured for him. After a correspondence between his father 
and some of his friends, this point seems to have been con- 
ceded to him. Believing this, he wrote the following letter 
to Lady Stewart, his aunt, which does him great credit for 
the noble aspirations which it discloses : 

"Nov. 4, 1763. 
" My Dear Aunt : 

" I received your letter about a week ago with great pleas- 
ure, and thank you for the good advice contained in it, which 
I hope by God's assistance I shall be able to follow. 

" I am extremely glad that you approve of my not going 
to sea. I shall tell my reasons for it. 

" In the first place, Papa got a letter from Commodore 
Dennis, laying before him the disadvantages at present of 
the sea service, on account of the many half-pay officers on 
the list, which all behoved to be promoted before me ; he 
also acquainted Papa that he was sorry that if I did go he 
could be of no service to me, as he had at present no com- 
mand, and had no prospects of getting any : he at the same 
time did not forget the advantages of it ; but when I weighed 
the two in scales, the disadvantages prevailed, and still more 
when added to my own objections, which are as follows ; — 
In the first place, I could have no opportunity 'of improving 
my learning, whereas in the army the regiment is often quar- 
tered in places where I might have all advantages. I assure 
you I could by no means put up without improving myself 
in my studies, for I can be as happy as the day is long with 
them, and would ten times rather be at St. Andrew's, at- 
tending the classes there, and even those which I was at 
last year, viz. natural philosophy and mathematics (both of 
which I am extremely fond of), than at the most beautiful 
place in the world, with all manner of diversions and amuse- 
ments. My second objection is, that I would be obliged to 
keep company with a most abandoned set of people that 



I92 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



would corrupt my morals ; whereas in the army, though they 
be bad enough, yet I should have the advantage of choosing 
my company when I pleased, without being constrained to 
any particular set ; — and thirdly, I think rny constitution 
would not agree with it, as I am very subject to rheumatic 
pains. [Then follow some little family matters and mes- 
sages.] 

" I shall now conclude with assuring you that I am, my 
dear aunt, 

" Your most affectionate nephew, 

Thomas Erskine." 

The arrangements, however, were not consummated, be- 
cause a commission could not be obtained without purchase, 
and the original intention of sending him to sea was resumed. 
In the following year he was put under Sir David Lindsay, 
a nephew of Lord Mansfield, and an experienced sea captain 
in command of a man-of-war. Young Erskine being sup- 
plied with a blue jacket, cocked hat, and sword, embarked at 
Leith, after taking an affecting leave of his family whom he 
tenderly loved. He never saw his father again alive, but 
his talented mother survived to encourage and animate him 
for many years, and to witness the commencement of his 
brilliant career. 

Erskine left his native land discouraged and dispirited, 
but when he next revisited it, he had achieved the reputation 
of the greatest forensic orator that England ever produced, 
and he was besides an ex-Chancellor, a Peer, and a Knight 
of the Thistle. 

Erskine remained in the Tartar, the name of the ship in 
which he sailed, four years, cruising about in the West In- 
dies and on the coast of America. One of his biographers 
says : " The life of a midshipman has been much improved 
of late years by superior comforts, and by anxious attention 
to professional and general education while he is afloat ; but 
in Erskine's time the interior of a man-of-war presented 
nearly the same spectacle which we find described in so lively 
a manner in Roderic Random, — and the young officers were 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 93 



taught little else than to smoke tobacco, to drink flip, and to 
eat salmagundy. Erskine,- however, — never neglecting his 
professional duties, — contrived often to escape from the dark 
and noisy abode of the midshipmen to a quiet corner of the 
vessel, where he amused and improved himself in reading 
books which be had brought on board with him — picking up 
some new volume at every port he visited. He was soon 
reconciled to his situation — and his elastic spirits and gay 
temperament made him not only take a deep interest in the 
new scenes which presented themselves to him, but to be 
pleased with all he saw. ... He was so warm an ad- 
mirer of the open, straightforward, light-hearted, brave 
though thoughtless and indiscreet character of English sea- 
men, that he would not hear of any plan for rendering them 
more sober and orderly on shore, saying, ' You may scour 
an old coin to make it legible ; but if you go on scouring, it 
will be no coin at all.' " 

Erskine did not remain long enough in the service to ob- 
tain the commission of lieutenant, thought he acted for 
some time in that capacity, through the friendship of his 
commander. In this capacity Erskine made the voyage 
home to England, believing that his promotion would be 
confirmed, but on arriving at Portsmouth the ship was paid 
off, and he was told at the Admiralty that, 0.11 account of the 
great number of midshipmen who had served longer than 
himself, he could not yet have a lieutenant's commission, 
and there was no telling when he might be advanced. 

At eighteen Erskine entered the army, as an ensign in the 
Royals, or 1st regiment of foot. On the 1st day of Septem- 
ber, 1768, he obtained his commission. Most of the officers 
of the corps were his countrymen. In this regiment he re- 
mained seven years, and was not raised to a lieutenancy un- 
til the 2 1 st of April 1773. On the 29th day of March, 1770, 
he was married to a lady of good family, but as poor as him- 
self. His wife was a daughter of Daniel Moore, Esq., M.P. 
for Marlow. His marriage was a most happy one. She be- 
came the fond parent of numerous children, and lived till 
within a few months of the time when Erskine was made 



194 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Lord Chancellor, having richly deserved the tribute which 
he had inscribed on her monument, that she was the most 
faithful and the most affectionate of women. 

While at Minorca where his regiment had been ordered, 
Erskine read many of the old English authors, and it is 
said that " he was more familiar with Shakespeare than al- 
most any man of his age, and Milton he had nearly by 
heart. The noble speeches in Paradise Lost may be deemed 
as good a substitute as could have been discovered by the 
future orator for the immortal originals in the Greek models. 
The works of Dryden and Pope were next read, and com- 
mitted to memory, with the avidity of a refined and well 
formed taste." 

Even the hours of garrison life, when not devoted to his 
favorite authors, were not wholly wasted, for Erskine ac- 
quired among his brother officers a knowledge of the world, 
a frank and gallant bearing, and that self-respect for which 
he was afterwards noted, and which greatly contributed to 
his success at the bar. When he returned to England with 
his regiment in 1772, he mixed much with the men of letters 
of the metropolis, and even tried authorship himself. Said 
Jeremy Bentham : " I saw a letter written by Erskine when 
he was an officer in the army — it complained of insufficient 
pay. That letter was characterized by something different 
from common writing, though it had many defects of which 
he afterwards got rid. When the Fragment was published 
Erskine sought me out. I met him sometimes [said the 
gossiping octogenarian] at Dr. Burton's. He was so shab- 
bily dressed as to be quite remarkable. He w r as astonished 
when I told him I did not mean to practice. I remember 
his calling on me, and not finding me at home, he wrote his 
name with chalk on my door." 

Erskine also attended the assemblies of Mrs. Montagu, 
frequented by Dr. Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, the Bishop 
of St. Asaph, Dr. Burney and many other celebrated men 
of that day. 

Boswell in his Life of Johnson, says : 

" On Monday, April 6, I dined with him at Sir Alexan- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 95 



der Macdonald's where was a young officer in the Regimen- 
tals of the Scots Royals, who talked with vivacity, fluency, 
and precision, so uncommon that he attracted particular at- 
tention. He proved to be the Honourable Thomas Erskine, 
youngest brother to the Earl of Buchan, who has since risen 
into such brilliant reputation at the Bar in Westminster 
Hall." It appears that, after the example of David and 
Goliath, the ensign ventured to combat the literary giant. 
A controversy arising about the respective merits of the au- 
thors of Tom Jones and Clarissa, and Johnson pronouncing 
Fielding to be " a blockhead " and " a barren rascal," and 
saying " there is more knowledge of the heart in one letter 
of Richardson's than in all Tom Jones,"— Erskine objected : 
" Surely, sir, Richardson is very tedious." He received only 
this answer, which, I think, is not very satisfactory : " Why, 
sir, if you were to read Richardson for the story, your im- 
patience would be so much fretted that you would hang 
yourself ! But you must read him for the sentiment, and 
consider the story as only giving occasion to the sentiment." 

Various conjectures have been made by Erskine's biogra- 
phers as to the motives which led him to adopt the legal 
profession. While little is certainly known it is highly prob- 
able that he was encouraged to study law by his mother, a 
woman of uncommon acquirements and great penetration, 
and by Lord Mansfield, but that the idea of becoming a 
lawyer first suggested itself to his own mind there can hardly 
be room for doubt after reading the following extract from 
his biography by Lord Campbell : 

" Having been some time the senior ensign in his regi- 
ment, on the 2 1st of April, 1773, he was raised to be a 
lieutenant. The pleasure of promotion speedily passed 
away, and he became more and more dissatisfied with his 
situation and his prospects. He was again moving about 
with his regiment from one country town to another. This 
mode of life had lost the charm of novelty which once made 
it endurable, and was now become doubly irksome from his 
having to keep a wife and family in a barrack-room, or in 
lodgings, the expense of which he could ill afford. He had 



I96 HISTORY OF ORATORY 



no money to purchase higher commissions, and he might 
wait many years before he gained another step by seniority. 
Notwithstanding some disputes with the American colonies, 
there seemed a probability of long and profound peace. He 
thought himself fit for better things than the wretched 
existence that seemed lengthening before him — to be spent 
in listlessness and penury. 

" It so happened that in the midst of these lucubrations, 
the assizes were held in the town in which he was quartered. 
The lounging lieutenant entering the court in his regimen- 
tals, Lord Mansfield, the presiding judge, inquired who he 
was, and, finding that this was the youngest son of the late 
Earl of Buchan, who had sailed with his nephew, invited 
him to sit on the bench by his side, explained to him the 
nature of the proceedings that were going forward, and 
showed him the utmost civility. Erskine heard a cause of 
considerable interest tried, in which the counsel were sup- 
posed to display great eloquence. Never undervaluing his 
own powers, he thought within himself, that he could have 
made a better speech than any of them, on whichever side 
he had been retained. Yet these gentlemen were the leaders 
of the circuit, each making a larger income than the pay of 
all the officers of the Royals put together, — with the chance 
of being raised by their own abilities to the Woolsack. The 
thought then suddenly struck him that it might not even 
now be too late for him to study the law and be called to 
the bar. He saw the difficulties in his way, but there was 
no effort which he was not willing to make, no privation to 
which he would not cheerfully submit, that he might rescue 
himself from his present forlorn condition, — that he might 
have a chance of gaining intellectual distinction, — above all, 
that he might make a decent provision for his family. Lord 
Mansfield invited him to dinner, and being greatly struck 
with his conversation and pleased with his manners, detained 
him till late in the evening. When the rest of the company 
had withdrawn, the Lieutenant, who ever showed great 
moral courage, in consideration of the connection between 
the Murrays and the Erskines, and the venerable Earl's 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 97 



great condescension and kindness, disclosed to him his plan 
of a change of profession, with a modest statement of his 
reasons. Lord Mansfield by no means discouraged him ; 
but advised him before he took a step so serious to consult 
his near relations." 

He accordingly wrote to his mother, and she, justly 
appreciating the energy and perseverance as well as the 
enthusiasm belonging to his nature, strongly advised him to 
quit the army for the law. His brothers did not oppose, — 
although Henry warned him of the thorny and uphill path 
on which he was entering. His resolution was now firmly 
taken, and he came up to London to carry it into effect. It 
was not till the spring of the following year that financial 
difficulties were so far removed as to render it possible for 
him to make the experiment. Craddock says : " At the 
house of Admiral Walsingham I first met with Erskine and 
Sheridan, and it was there the scheme was laid that the 
former should exchange the army for the law " ; but he had 
not been made acquainted with the, previous consultations, 
or he would have said that the plan w r as there matured, and 
the arrangements made for his legal studies and his call to 
the bar. " The period of five years was then required by 
all the inns of court for a student to be on the books of the 
society before he could be called — with this proviso, that it 
was reduced to three years for those who had the degree of 
M. A. from either of the universities of Oxford or Cambridge. 
It was resolved that Erskine should immediately be at an 
inn of court ; that he should likewise be matriculated at 
Cambridge, and take a degree there ; that he should keep 
his academical and law terms concurrently, and that as soon 
as it could be managed, he should become a pupil to some 
eminent pleader, so as to be well grounded in the technicali- 
ties of his craft." On the 26th day of April, 1775, Erskine 
was admitted a student of Lincoln's Inn, and on the 13th of 
January, 1 y/6, he was matriculated at Cambridge, and entered 
on the books of Trinity College, as a Gentleman Commoner. 
He took the honorary degree of A. M. in June, 1778. It is 
said that while still a student at Cambridge he kept his 



I98 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



terms at Lincoln's Inn. He had not yet actually quitted 
the army, but had succeeded in getting six months' leave of 
absence. During Easter he created a sensation in the din- 
ing hall by appearing with a student's black gown over the 
scarlet regimentals of the Royals, probably not having a 
decent suit of plain clothes to put on. By the sale of his 
lieutenancy he obtained a small supply of cash on the 19th 
day of September, 1775. 

Erskine became a pupil in the chambers of Mr. Justice 
Buller, the great Nisi Prius judge, who said his idea of 
heaven was a place where he could hear causes all day and 
play whist all night, and when Buller was made a judge, he 
entered himself with another famous lawyer, George Wood, 
afterwards made Baron of the Exchequer, with whom he 
continued for nearly a year after his admission to the bar. 

Erskine never became a profound lawyer, but he had a 
logical understanding, and it is said that by severe applica- 
tion he made considerable progress, and that he was able 
thoroughly to understand and appreciate, in all its bearings, 
any question of law which he had occasion to consider — and 
to collect and arrange the authorities upon it, and to argue 
it lucidly and scientifically. For three years after his retire- 
ment from the army Erskine was often in need of money. 
Although practising the strictest economy, and the most 
rigid self-denial, he often found it difficult to provide the 
necessaries of life for his family. But like most men of 
ability and determination, he had carefully calculated the 
chances of success and failure, and had made up his mind to 
do his best, and leave the consequences to Infinite wisdom. 

Poverty too often presents such a discouraging front to 
struggling genius as to paralyse every effort, but, fortunately, 
Erskine was endowed by nature with a sanguine tempera- 
ment and an indomitable will which enabled him to over- 
come all obstacles. 

It is, unhappily, but too true, that men of genius are often 
doomed to languish in obscurity at the bar for many years 
after their admission ; but by a fortunate accident Erskine 
was soon given an opportunity to demonstrate his capacity 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 1 99 



to the bench and bar of London. Be it said to the credit 
of the legal profession both in this country and in England, 
that the leaders of the bar are rarely guilty of the unutter- 
able meanness of attempting to prevent the rise of a talented 
lawyer, but, on the contrary, are only too glad to assist him, 
in every possible way, to tread the thorny and difficult path 
which he finds before him. 

Captain Baillie, the lieutenant-governor of Greenwich Hos- 
pital, and a veteran seaman of excellent character, having 
discovered gross abuses in the administration of that charity, 
presented various petitions to the directors, governors, and 
at last, to the lords of the admiralty, asking for enquiry and 
redress. No attention being paid to his petitions and remon- 
strances, he published a statement of the case and distributed 
copies amongst the general-governors of the hospital. In 
this paper he animadverted with great severity upon the in- 
troduction of landsmen into the hospital, charging that they 
had been placed there, at the instance, and to serve the elec- 
tion purposes, of Lord Sandwich, the First Lord of the 
Admiralty. The circulation of the pamphlet caused the 
suspension of Captain Baillie soon after its publication, and 
certain officers who had been censured applied to the Court 
of King's Bench for a criminal information. Erskine's suc- 
cessful connection with the case has been graphically told 
by himself, as follows : 

" I had scarcely a shilling in my pocket when I got my 
first retainer. It was sent me by Captain Baillie of the navy, 
who held an office at the Board of Greenwich Hospital, and 
I was to show cause at the Michaelmas term against a rule 
that had been obtained in the preceding term, calling on him 
to show cause why a criminal information reflecting on Lord 
Sandwich's conduct as governor of that charity should not 
be filed against him. I had met, during the long vacation, 
this Captain Baillie at a friend's table, and after dinner I ex- 
pressed myself with some warmth, probably with some elo- 
quence, on the corruption of Lord Sandwich as First Lord 
of the Admiralty, and then adverted to the scandalous prac- 
tices imputed to him with regard to Greenwich Hospital. 



200 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Baillie nudged the person who sat next to him, and asked 
who I was. Being told that I had just been called to the 
bar, and had formerly been in the navy, Baillie exclaimed 
with an oath : ' Then I '11 have him for my counsel ! * I 
trudged down to Westminster Hall when I got the brief, 
and being the junior of five, who would be heard before me, 
never dreamt that the court would hear me at all. The 
argument came on. Dunning, Bearcroft, Wallace, Bower, 
Hargave, were all heard at considerable length, and Iwas 
to follow. Hargrave was long-winded and tired the court. 
It was a bad omen ; but, as my good fortune would have it, 
he was afflicted with the strangury, and was obliged to re- 
tire once or twice in the course of his argument. This pro- 
tracted the cause so long, that Lord Mansfield, when he had 
finished, said that the remaining counsel should be heard the 
next morning. This was exactly what I wished. I had the 
whole night to arrange in my chambers what I had to say in 
court the next morning, and I took the court with their fac- 
ulties awake and freshened, succeeded quite to my own sat- 
isfaction (sometimes the surest proof that you have satisfied 
others), and, as I marched along the Hall after the rising of 
the judges, the attorneys flocked around me with their re- 
tainers. I have since flourished, but I have always blessed 
God for the providential strangury of poor Hargrave." 

In his defence of Baillie, Erskine displayed great courage 
in attacking those who came forward as prosecutors. He 
paid his respects to one of them as follows : " In this enu- 
meration of delinquents, the Reverend Mr. looks round, 

as if he thought I had forgotten him. He is mistaken ; I 
well remember him : but his infamy is worn threadbare. Mr. 
Murphy has already treated him with that ridicule which his 
folly, and Mr. Peckham with that invective which his wick- 
edness, deserve. I shall therefore forbear to taint the ear 
of the court further with his name, — a name which would 
bring dishonour upon his country and its religion, if human 
nature were not happily compelled to bear the greater part 
of the disgrace, and to share it amongst mankind." 

Erskine's attack upon the prosecutors of Baillie was occa- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 201 



sionally varied by pathetic references to the saddest features 
of the case : " This simple and honest tribute was the signal 
for all that followed. The leader of these unfortunate peo- 
ple was turned out of office ; and the affidavit of Charles 
Smith is filed in court, which, I thank my God, I have not 
been able to read without tears ; how, indeed, could any 
man, when he swears that for this cause alone his place was 
taken from him : that he received his dismission when lan- 
guishing with sickness in the infirmary, the consequence of 
which was, that his unfortunate wife and several of his help- 
less innocent children died in want and misery, the woman 
actually expiring at the gates of the hospital. That such 
wretches should escape chains and a dungeon is a reproach 
to humanity and to all order and government ; but that 
they should become prosecutors is a degree of effrontery that 
would not be believed by any man who did not accustom 
himself to observe the shameless scenes which the monstrous 
age we live in is every day producing." 

Erskine then commenced his famous attack upon Lord 
Sandwich, when Lord Mansfield observed that Lord Sand- 
wich was not before the court. The dauntless advocate said : 
" I know that he is not before the court, but for that very 
reason I will bring him before tlie court. He has placed these 
men in the front of the battle, in hopes to escape under their 
shelter ; but I will not join in battle with them : their vices, 
though screwed up to the highest pitch of human depravity, 
are not of dignity enough to vindicate the combat with me. 
I assert that the Earl of Sandwich has but one road to es- 
cape out of this business without pollution and disgrace ; 
and that is by publicly disavowing the acts of the prosecu- 
tors, and restoring Captain Baillie to his command. If he 
does this then his offence will be no more than the too com- 
mon one of having suffered his own personal interests to 
prevail over his public duty, in placing his voters in the hos- 
pital. But if, on the contrary, he continues to protect the 
prosecutors, in spite of the evidence of their guilt, which has 
excited the abhorrence of the numerous audience that crowd 
this court ; if he keeps this injured man suspended, or dares 



202 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



to turn that suspension into a removal, I shall then not scru- 
ple to declare him an accomplice in their guilt, a shameless 
oppressor, a disgrace to his rank, and a traitor to his trust." 

The panegyric, delivered in an impassioned manner, upon 
his client's conduct, was fine. He said : "Fine and imprison- 
ment ! The man deserves a palace instead of a prison, who 
prevents the palace built by the bounty of his country from 
being converted into a dungeon, and who sacrifices his own 
security to the interests of humanity and virtue/' 

After his successful defence of Baillie, Erskine found 
himself at once in full business, strange to say, for, not- 
withstanding the brilliancy of his first forensic effort, the 
attorneys, who are proverbially cold and cautious, and dis- 
trustful of displays of eloquence, flocked around him with 
briefs and fees, large and small. His sudden success has 
always been justly regarded as phenomenal by the wisest 
members of the legal profession both in England and in this 
country, and the younger members of the legal profession 
are constantly warned, by their judicious friends, that no 
matter how great their attainments they cannot hope to 
succeed as Erskine did. Erskine himself could not perform 
such an oratorical feat at this day, because of the change 
which the style of oratory has undergone, because our 
courts are more prosaic, and more business-like in their 
methods than they were in his time. 

In the year 1779, Erskine was employed, at the instance 
of Dunning, himself one of the brightest ornaments of the 
English bar, to assist in the defence of Admiral Keppel. 
The charges brought against Keppel were of incapacity and 
misconduct in the battle of Ushant, with the French fleet 
under the command of Count d'Orvilliers. Erskine was not 
permitted to address the court-martial in defence of Keppel, 
but he wrote the speech which the Admiral read himself. 
The whole speech is worthy of a careful perusal, on account 
of the tact displayed in its composition. Erskine always 
had a happy knack of placing the accusers of his clients on 
the defensive, and in this case he made the Admiral say : 
" I could almost wish, in pity to my accuser, that appear- 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 203 



ances were not so strong against him. The trial has left 
my accuser without excuse, and he now cuts that sort of 
figure which I trust in God all accusers of innocence will 
ever exhibit ! As to this Court, I entreat you, gentlemen, 
who compose it, to recollect that you sit here as a Court of 
honour, as well as a Court of justice ; and I now stand before 
you not merely to save my life, but for a purpose of infi- 
nitely greater moment — to clear my fame. My conscience 
is perfectly clear — I have no secret machination, no dark 
contrivance, to answer for. My heart does not reproach 
me. As to my enemies, I would not wish the greatest 
enemy I have in the world to be afflicted with so heavy a 
punishment as my accuser's conscience." 

When Keppel's speech was finished the Hall resounded 
with shouts of acclamation, and he was fully and honorably 
acquitted by an unanimous verdict. 

Keppel gratefully presented to Erskine one thousand 
pounds. Lord Campbell relates a curious incident, in 
Erskine's career, which, if true, is illustrative of the old 
saying that, " Coming events cast their shadows before." 
He says: " This spring, he (Erskine) joined the Home Cir- 
cuit, where his fame had preceded him, and he was immedi- 
ately in full employment. Riding over a blasted heath 
between Lewes and Guildford with his friend William Adam, 
afterwards Lord Chief Commissioner of the Jury Court in 
Scotland, (whether from some supernatural communica- 
tion, or the workings of his own fancy, I know not,) he 
exclaimed after a long silence : ' Willie, the time will come 
when I will be invested with the robes of Lord Chancellor, 
and the Star of the Thistle shall blaze on my bosom ! ' ' 

Truly, there are more things in heaven and earth than 
are dreamed of in our philosophies ! 

Of Erskine's defence of Lord George Gordon for high 
treason, Lord Campbell says : " Regularly trained to the 
profession of the law — having practised thirty years at the 
bar — having been Attorney-General above seven years — 
having been present at many trials for high treason, and 
having conducted several myself, — I again peruse, with 



204 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



increased astonishment and delight, the speech delivered 
on this occasion by him who had recently thrown aside 
the scarlet uniform of a subaltern in the army — which he 
had substituted for the blue jacket of a midshipman, thrust 
upon him while he was a school-boy. Here I find not only 
wonderful acuteness, powerful reasoning, enthusiastic zeal, 
and burning eloquence, but the most masterly view ever 
given of the English law of high treason, — the foundation 
of all our liberties." 

The reader will remember that Lord George Gordon was 
" President of the Protestant Association," and that at 
the head of forty thousand persons he had proceeded to 
the House of Commons to present a petition against the 
repeal of certain penal laws against the Catholics. While 
the petitioners were assembled, certain riots took place 
which Lord George Gordon was accused, erroneously, as 
the jury found, of having incited. 

Erskine's speech in this case — in the humble opinion of 
the writer — was one of the best that he ever delivered, and 
the student of forensic eloquence cannot read it too often. 

It is difficult to give a just notion of this speech by 
quotations from it. After an eloquent and judicious 
exordium, Erskine proceeded to lay down the law of high 
treason. Then, with great tact, he referred to the destruc- 
tion of the house of the presiding judge, Lord Mansfield, 
during these riots — drawing from it an argument in favor 
of Gordon : 

" Can any man living believe that Lord George Gordon 
could possibly have excited the mob to destroy the house of 
that great and venerable magistrate, who has presided so long 
in this great and high tribunal, that the oldest of us do not 
remember him with any other impression than the awful form 
and figure of justice, — a magistrate who had always been the 
friend of ,the Protestant dissenters against the ill-timed jeal- 
ousies of the establishment ; — his countryman, too, and, with- 
out adverting to the partiality not unjustly imputed to men 
of that country, a man of whom any country might be proud ? 
No, gentlemen, it is not credible that a man of noble birth 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 20$ 



and liberal education (unless agitated by the most implac- 
able personal resentment, which is not imputed to the pris- 
oner) could possibly consent to this burning of the house of 
Lord Mansfield." 

Lord Campbell says again : " He then reviewed the whole 
of the evidence, varying his tone from mild explanation to 
furious invective, — always equally skilful and impressive, 
and ever carrying the sympathies of his hearers along with 
him in the most daring flights of his eloquence. Now was 
witnessed the single instance recorded in our judicial annals, 
of an advocate in a court of justice introducing an oath by 
the sacred name of the Divinity, — and it was introduced not 
only without any violation of taste, or offence to pious ears, 
but with the thrilling sensations of religious rapture, caught 
from the lips of the man who, as if by inspiration, uttered 
the awful sound. Arguing upon the construction of certain 
words attributed to Lord George Gordon, he exclaimed : 
' But this I will say, that he must be a ruffian, and not a law- 
yer, who would dare to tell an English jury that ambiguous 
words, hemmed closely between others not only innocent, 
but meritorious, are to be adopted to constitute guilt by re- 
jecting both introduction and sequel.' " 

Lord Erskine's defence of the Dean of St. Asaph against 
the charge of publishing a seditious libel added greatly to 
his fame as a forensic orator, and to his reputation as a man 
of courage. By defying the threat of committal, made by 
Justice Buller, he did his profession an excellent service. 
For it must never be forgotten that the members of the Bar 
have rights which the Bench has no right to violate. His 
manner to the court was not lacking in courtesy, and neither 
in manner nor matter did he commit a contempt. The Jus- 
tice himself saw that he had committed an error, and did not 
dare carry his threat of committal into execution, because he 
knew that, if he did so, public opinion, which then was, and 
is now, omnipotent, would not have sustained him. 

Lack of space alone prevents the insertion of extracts from 
Erskine's able speech in this case. It seemed for a while that 
the abominable doctrine, that libel or no libel was a pure 



206 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



question of law, would be forever established, but, thank 
Heaven! it led instead to the entire subversion of that fatal 
doctrine, and the establishment of the liberty of the press 
under the guardianship of English juries. The consequences 
of this decision so alarmed the public mind that Mr. Fox's 
Libel Bill was called for, which declared the rights of jurors 
in cases of libel, and while in the opinion of eminent lawyers 
that great constitutional triumph is largely due to the exer- 
tions of the illustrious Lord Camden, who fought half a cen- 
tury in the cause, had it not been for Erskine's magnificent 
speech in defence of the Dean of St. Asaph, the Star Chamber 
might have been re-established in England. 

Charles James Fox had such great admiration for this 
speech that he repeatedly declared that he thought it the 
finest argument in the English language. 

The writer, however, is inclined to believe that Erskine's 
speech in Stockdale's case is even superior to the speech in 
defence of Gordon, and that it is in many respects the most 
eloquent speech ever delivered at the English bar. 

While the impeachment of Warren Hastings was pending, 
after the articles drawn up against him by Mr. Burke, in 
greatly exaggerated language, had appeared in nearly every 
prominent newspaper in England, together with the abusive 
speeches of the eloquent managers at the bar of the House 
of Lords, Mr. Logan, a minister of the Church of Scotland, 
wrote a pamphlet in his defence which contained many severe 
accusations against the prosecution. Mr. Logan said, among 
other things, that the charges against Mr. Hastings, " origi- 
nated from misrepresentation and falsehood " ; the House 
of Commons, for making one of these charges, was compared 
to " a tribunal of inquisition rather than a Court of Parlia- 
ment." These and many other charges were made, one of 
the severest of which was, that the impeachment was " carried 
on from motives of personal animosity, not from regard to 
public justice." But Mr. Logan entered into the merits of 
the case, and the arguments he used were very strong, and 
he seemed sincerely desirous of establishing the innocence 
of Mr. Hastings. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 2QJ 



Mr. Stockdale, a bookseller of good character, in Piccadilly, 
published this pamphlet in the way of his trade. At the 
instance of some of the managers of the impeachment, a 
criminal information for libel was filed by the Attorney-Gen- 
eral against Mr. Stockdale, and the case came on to be tried 
before Lord Kenyon and a special jury in the Court of King's 
Bench, at Westminster. No lawyer should try a case of 
libel without first reading, over and over again, Erskine's 
speech in this case. The principles which the eloquent ad- 
vocate laid down were clearly and forcibly stated, illustrated, 
and established, and a well connected chain of reasoning will 
be found to run through it. 

In order to win the compassion of the jury for Mr. Has- 
tings, Erskine gives the following picturesque description of 
Westminster Hall : 

" There the most august and striking spectacle was daily 
exhibited which the world ever witnessed. A vast stage of 
justice was erected, awful from its high authority, splendid 
from its illustrious dignity, venerable from the learning and 
wisdom of its judges, captivating and affecting from the 
mighty concourse of all ranks and conditions which daily 
flocked into it as into a theatre of pleasure. Here, when the 
whole public mind was at once awed and softened to the 
impression of every human affection, there appeared day 
after day, one after another, men of the most powerful and 
exalted talents, eclipsing by their accusing eloquence the 
most boasted harangues of antiquity, rousing the pride of 
national resentment by the boldest invectives against broken 
faith and violated treaties, and shaking the bosom with 
alternate pity and horror by the most glowing pictures of 
insulted nature and humanity ; — ever animated and energetic, 
from the love of fame, which is the inherent passion of 
genius ; firm and indefatigable, from a strong prepossession 
of the justice of their cause. Gentlemen, when the author 
sat down to write the book now before you, all this terri- 
ble, unceasing, exhaustless artillery of warm zeal, matchless 
vigour of understanding, consuming and devouring elo- 
quence, united with the highest dignity, was daily, and with- 



208 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



out prospect of conclusion, pouring forth upon one private 
unprotected man who was bound to hear it in the face of 
the whole people of England with reverential submission and 
silence. I do not complain of this as I did of the publication 
of the charges, because it is what the law allowed and 
sanctioned in the course of a public trial ; but when it is 
remembered that we are not angels, but weak, fallible men, 
and that even the noble judges of that high tribunal are 
clothed beneath their ermines with the common infirmities 
of man's nature, it will bring us all to a proper temper for 
considering the book itself which will in a few moments be laid 
before you. But, first, let me once more remind you, that it 
was under all these circumstances, and amidst the blaze of 
passion and prejudice which the scene I have been endeav- 
ouring faintly to describe to you might be supposed likely 
to produce, that the author sat down to compose the book 
which is prosecuted to-day as a libel." 

After paying that gentleman some compliments, Erskine 
thus states the motive by which he had been actuated, and 
the issue which the jury had to try : " He felt for the situ- 
ation of a fellow-citizen, exposed to a trial which, whether 
right or wrong, is undoubtedly a severe one ; — a trial cer- 
tainly not confined to a few criminal acts, like those we are 
accustomed to, but comprehending the transactions of a 
whole life, and the complicated policies of numerous and 
distant nations ; — a trial which had neither visible limits to 
its duration, bounds to its expense, nor circumscribed com- 
pass, for the grasp of memory or understanding; — a trial 
which had, therefore, broke loose from the common form of 
decision, and had become the universal topic of discussion 
in the world, superseding not only every grave pursuit, but 
every fashionable dissipation. Gentlemen, the question you 
have, therefore, to try upon all this matter, is extremely 
simple. It is neither more nor less than this. At a time 
when the charges against Mr. Hastings were, by the implied 
consent of the Commons, in every hand and on every table, — 
when by their harangues the lightning of eloquence was 
incessantly consuming him, and flashing in the eyes of the 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 209 



public, — when every man was, with perfect impunity, saying, 
and writing, and publishing just what he pleased of the sup- 
posed plunderer and devastator of nations, — would it have 
been criminal in Mr. Hastings himself to have reminded the 
public that he was a native of this free land, entitled to the 
common protection of her justice, and that he had a defence 
in his turn to offer them, the outlines of which he implored 
them, in the meantime, to receive as an antidote to the 
unlimited and unpunished poison in circulation against him ? 
This is without colour or exaggeration, the true question 
you are to decide. Gentlemen, I tremble with indignation 
to be driven to put such a question in England. Shall 
it be endured that a subject of this country — instead 
of being arraigned and tried for some single act in 
her ordinary courts, where the accusation, as soon at least 
as it is made public, is followed in a few hours by the 
decision — may be impeached by the House of Commons 
for the transactions of twenty years — that the accusation 
shall spread as wide as the region of letters — that the accused 
shall stand, day after day and year after year, as a spectacle 
before the public, which shall be kept in a perpetual state 
of inflammation against him, — yet that he shall not, without 
the severest penalties, be permitted to say anything to the 
judgment of mankind in his defence? If this be law (which 
it is for you to-day to decide), such a man has no trial ; — 
that great hall, built by our fathers for English justice, is no 
longer a court, but an altar, — and an Englishman, instead 
of being judged in it by God and his country, is a victim and 
a sacrifice. 

" If you think, gentlemen, that the common duty of self- 
preservation in the accused himself, which nature writes as 
a law in the hearts of even savages and brutes, is nevertheless 
too high a privilege to be enjoyed by an impeached and 
suffering Englishman ; or if you think it beyond the offices 
of humanity and justice, when brought home to the hand of 
a brother, or a friend, you will say so by your verdict of 
guilty. The decision will then be yours, and the consolation 
mine, — that I laboured to avert it. A very small part of the 



210 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



misery which will follow from it is likely to light upon me ; 
the rest will be divided amongst yourselves and your children." 
" Having/' says Campbell, in commenting upon this 
speech, " at great length and with unflagging spirit, examined 
the contents of the pamphlet, and commented on the passage 
charged in the information to be libellous, — with the view 
of ingratiating Mr. Hastings defender with the jury, he pro- 
ceeds to take a favourable view of the conduct of Mr. Hastings 
himself, — not venturing to defend all his acts, but palliating 
them so as to make them be forgiven, or even applauded, 
from the circumstances in which he was placed, and the 
instructions which he had received." Then follows the finest 
passage to be found in ancient or modern oratory — for 
imagery, for passion, for pathos, for variety and beauty of 
cadence, for the concealment of art, for effect in gaining the 
object of the orator: 'If your dependencies have been 
secured, and their interests promoted, I am driven in the 
defence of my client to remark, that it is mad and preposter- 
ous to bring to the standard of justice and humanity the 
exercise of a dominion founded upon violence and terror. It 
may and must be true that Mr. Hastings has repeatedly 
offended against the rights and privileges of Asiatic govern- 
ment, if he was the faithful deputy of a power which 
could not maintain itself for an hour without trampling upon 
both ; — he may and must have offended against the laws of 
God and nature, if he was the faithful viceroy of an empire 
wrested in blood from the people to whom God and nature 
had given it ; — he may and must have preserved that unjust 
dominion over timorous and abject nations by a terrifying, 
overbearing, and insulting superiority, if he was the faithful 
administrator of your government, which, having no rest in 
consent and affection, no foundation in similarity of interests, 
nor support from any one principle that cements men to- 
gether in society, could only be upheld by alternate strata- 
gem and force. The unhappy people in India, feeble and 
effeminate as they are from the softness of their climate, 
and subdued and broken as they have been by the knavery 
and strength of civilization, still occasionally start up in all 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 2 1 1 



the vigour and intelligence of insulted nature : — to be gov- 
erned at all, they must be governed with a rod of iron ; and 
our empire in the East would have been long since lost to 
Great Britain, if civil and military prowess had not united 
their efforts to support an authority, which Heaven never 
gave, by means which it can never sanction. 

" Gentlemen, I think I can observe that you are touched 
with this way of considering the subject ; and I can account 
for it. I have not been considering it through the cold 
medium of books, but have been speaking of man and his 
nature, and of human dominion, from what I have seen of 
them myself, amongst reluctant nations submitting to our 
authority. I know what they feel, and how such feelings 
can alone be repressed. I have heard them in my youth 
from a naked savage in the indignant character of a. Prince 
surrounded by his subjects, addressing the governor of a 
British colony, holding a bundle of sticks as the notes of his 
unlettered eloquence. ' Who is it,' said the jealous ruler 
over the desert encroached upon by the restless foot of 
English adventurers, 'who is it that causes this river to rise 
in the high mountains, and to empty itself into the ocean? 
Who is it that causes to blow the loud winds of winter, and 
that calms them again in the summer ? Who is it that rears 
up the shade of those lofty forests, and blasts them with the 
quick lightning at his pleasure ? The same Being who gave 
to you a country on the other side of the waters, and gave 
ours to us : and by this title we will defend it,' said the 
warrior, throwing down his tomahawk upon the ground, and 
raising the war-sound of his nation. These are the feelings 
of subjugated men all round the globe; and, depend upon 
it, nothing but fear will control where it is vain to look for 
affection. 

" But under the pressure of such constant difficulties, so 
dangerous to national honour, it might be better, perhaps, 
to think of effectually securing it altogether, by recalling 
our troops and our merchants, and abandoning our Asiatic 
empire. Until this be done, neither religion nor philosophy 
can be pressed very far into the aid of reformation and pun- 



212 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ishment. If England, from a lust of ambition and dominion, 
will insist on maintaining despotic rule over distant and 
hostile nations, beyond all comparison more numerous and 
extended than herself, and gives commission to her viceroys 
to govern them, with no other instructions than to preserve 
them, and to secure permanently their revenues, — with what 
colour or consistency of reason can she place herself in the 
moral chair, and affect to be shocked at the execution of 
her own orders, adverting to the exact measure of wicked- 
ness and injustice necessary to their execution, and com- 
plaining only of the excess as the immorality ; — considering 
her authority as a dispensation for breaking the commands 
of God, and the breach of them as only punishable when 
contrary to the ordinances of man ? Such a proceeding, 
gentlemen, begets serious reflections. It would be, perhaps, 
better for the masters and servants of all such governments 
to join in supplication that the great Author of violated 
humanity may not confound them together in one common 
judgment." 

The author will conclude the extracts from this speech by 
giving Erskine's reasons for allowing that license of expres- 
sion into which writers, warm with their subjects, may be 
betrayed : 

" From minds thus subdued by the terrors of punishment 
there could issue no works of genius to expand the empire 
of human reason, nor any masterly compositions on the 
nature of government, by the help of which the great com- 
monwealths of mankind have founded their establishments ; 
much less any of those useful applications of them to critical 
conjunctures, by which, from time to time, our own constitu- 
tion, by the exertions of patriot citizens, has been brought 
back to its standard. Under such terrors all the great lights 
of science and civilisation must be extinguished ; for men 
cannot communicate their free thoughts to one another 
with the lash held over their heads. It is the nature of 
everything that is great and useful, both in the animate and 
inanimate world, to be wild and irregular ; and we must be 
contented to take them with the alloys which belong to 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 213 



them, or live without them. Genius breaks from the fetters 
of criticism ; but its wanderings are sanctioned by its 
majesty and wisdom when it advances in its path ; subject 
it to the critic and you tame it into dulness. Mighty rivers 
break down their banks in winter, sweeping to death the 
flocks which are fattened on the soil that they fertilise in 
the summer. Tempests occasionally shake our dwellings 
and dissipate our commerce ; but they scourge before them 
the lazy elements which without them would stagnate into 
pestilence. In like manner, Liberty herself, the last and 
best gift of God to his creatures, must be taken just as she 
is. You might pare her down into bashful regularity, and 
shape her into a perfect model of severe scrupulous law, 
but she then would be Liberty no longer ; and you must be 
content to die under the lash of this inexorable justice, 
which you had exchanged for the banners of freedom." 

Lord Abinger, himself one of the greatest forensic orators 
of his day, heard this speech delivered, and he said that the 
effect on the audience was wholly unexampled : " that they 
all actually believed that they saw before them the Indian 
chief with his bundle of sticks and his tomahawk, — their 
breasts thrilled with the notes of his unlettered eloquence, — 
and they thought they heard him raise the war-sound of 
his nation." The jury returned a verdict of " Not Guilty." 

Erskine's defence of Hardy is worthy of study by the 
advocate. Thomas Hardy was one of twelve persons in- 
dicted by the Grand Jury of Middlesex for treason. The 
prisoner had belonged to two societies having for their pro- 
fessed object Parliamentary Reform — the " Corresponding 
Society," and the " Society for Constitutional Information," 
— having branch societies in most of the largest cities of 
Great Britain. Hardy and his associates were indicted for 
attempting to bring about a revolution, the government 
seeking to make them responsible for the acts and utter- 
ances of indiscreet and zealous members of the societies 
mentioned. Hardy was tried alone. In this case Erskine 
gave the death-blow to the doctrine of constructive treason. 

The trial of Hardy began on the 28th day of October, 



214 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



1794, at the Old Bailey, before Lord Chief-Justice Eyre, 
and several other judges, sitting under a special commission 
of oyer and terminer. Sir John Scott, then Attorney-Gen- 
eral, spoke nine hours in opening the case for the prosecu- 
tion. It is said that no other trial for high treason in 
England had ever occupied more than a day, but at mid- 
night the case was only fairly begun. The principal evidence 
for the Crown consisted, principally, of a large number of 
speeches made, and resolutions passed, during several 
months at London, Edinburgh, Norwich, and other places, 
when the prisoner had been hundreds of miles away, — of 
toasts at public dinners, — and of certain publications issued 
by the societies mentioned, or which the societies had ap- 
proved, or which had been written by members of the 
society. 

Erskine, ever ready to win the favour of the jury, ex- 
pressed his willingness that they should separate and go to 
their several homes, saying : " I am willing that they shall be 
as free as air, with the single restriction that they will not 
suffer themselves to be approached in the way of influence ; 
and the gentlemen will not think it much that this should 
be required, considering the very peculiar nature of this case. 

An objection being made to their separation, it was agreed 
that they should pass the night in a large room in a tavern 
nearby, in the care of four bailiffs. 

Erskine, however, with the great sagacity for which he was 
justly noted, saw that the address of the Attorney-General 
had affected them deeply, and he determined to give them 
something else to think about. So before they retired he 
said : 

" My Lord, all this immense body of papers has been 
seized, and been a long time in the hands of the officers of 
the Crown. We applied to see them, but were refused — we 
applied to the Privy Council, and were refused — we were re- 
ferred to your Lordship, because they knew that your Lord- 
ship could not grant such a request. Here we are, therefore, 
with all these papers tumbled upon our hands, without the 
least opportunity of examining them ; and yet from this load 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 2 1 5 



of papers, which the Attorney-General took nine hours to 
read, the act of compassing the King's death is to be col- 
lected. I trust your Lordships will be disposed to indulge 
me — indeed I shall expect, in justice to the prisoner, that I 
may have an opportunity, before I address the jury upon 
this mass of evidence, to know what is in it. I declare, upon 
my honour, as far as relates to myself and my friend who is 
assigned as counsel for the prisoner, we have no design what- 
ever to trespass upon the patience of the Court, and your 
Lordships may have seen to-day how little of your time we 
have consumed. We have no desire upon earth but to do 
our best to save the man for whom your Lordships have 
assigned us to be counsel, and whom we believe to be inno- 
cent." 

Erskine found it necessary to keep in check, without in- 
sulting, Lord Chief-Justice Eyre, who had leaned toward 
the prosecution from the beginning. While a witness for 
the Crown was writhing under a severe cross-examination, 
and prevaricating so as to revolt the jury, the Chief-Justice, 
interrupting, took him out of the counsel's hands, and in a 
coaxing manner repeated the question to him. Erskine : 
" I am entitled to have the benefit of this gentleman's de- 
portment, if your Lordship will just indulge me for one 
moment." L. C.-J. Eyre : " Give him fair play." Erskine : 
" He has certainly had fair play. I wish we had as fair play, — 
but that is not addressed to the Court." Attorney-General : 
" Whom do you mean ? " Erskine : " I say the prisoner 
has a right to fair play." Garrow : " But you declared that 
it was not said to the Court." Erskine : " I am not to be 
called to order by the Bar." 

The following dialogue exhibits in a striking manner Ers- 
kine's occasional method of treating the Court and his adver- 
sary. A witness who pretended to relate, from notes he said 
he had taken of the proceedings of a reform society, having 
been asked for a date, and having answered that he thought it 
was about such a time. Erskine exclaimed : " None of your 
thinking when you have the paper in your hands ! " Wit- 
ness : "I have not a memorandum of the date." Erskine: 



2l6 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" What date have you taken, good Mr. Spy ? " Witness ; " I 
do not think on such an occasion being a spy is any disgrace." 
Eyre, C.-J. : " These observations are more proper when 
you come to address the jury." Attorney-General : " Really 
that is not a proper way to examine witnesses. Lord Holt 
held strong language to such sort of an address from a coun- 
sel to a witness who avowed himself a spy." Erskine : " I 
am sure I shall always pay that attention to the Court which 
is due from me ; but I am not to be told by the Attorney- 
General how I am to examine a witness ! " Attorney-Gen- 
eral : " I thought you had not heard his Lordship." Erskine : 
" I am much obliged to his Lordship for the admonition he 
gave me. I heard his Lordship, and I heard you, — whom 
I should not have heard." 

The celebrated Home Tooke, in his copy of Hardy's trial, 
at the end of Erskine's argument, made the following note : 
" This speech will live forever." 

Erskine spoke seven hours in Hardy's case, and it is said 
that the time seemed too short to his hearers. For consti- 
tutional learning, wit, pathos, eloquence, and powerful rea- 
soning, this speech must be considered one of Erskine's best 
efforts. The author will only give a few extracts from it, 
which should be studied as a whole by the reader. The 
speech was well calculated to win the affection and convince 
the understanding of the jury, as well as to excite their 
pity and indignation. 

After having eulogised the constitution of England, and 
having referred to the state of affairs produced by the French 
Revolution, Erskine said : 

" Let not him suffer under vague expositions of tyrannical 
laws more tyrannically executed. Let not him be hurried 
away to pre-doomed execution, from an honest enthusiasm 
for the public safety. I ask for him a trial by this applauded 
Constitution of our country : I call upon you to administer 
the law to him according to our own wholesome institutions, 
by its strict and rigid letter. However you may eventually 
disapprove of any part of his conduct, or, viewing it through 
a false medium, may think it even wicked, I claim for him 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 2 I J 



as a subject of England that the law shall decide upon its 
criminal denomination. I protest in his name against all 
speculations respecting consequences when the law commands 
us to look only to intentions. If the state be threatened 
with evils, let Parliament administer a prospective remedy ; 
but let the prisoner hold his life under the law. Gentlemen, 
I ask this solemnly of the Court, whose justice I am per- 
suaded will afford it to me. I ask it more emphatically of 
you, the jury, who are called upon by your oaths to make 
a true deliverance of your countryman from this charge ; 
but lastly and chiefly I implore it of Him in whose hands are 
all the issues of life, whose merciful eye expands itself over 
all the transactions of mankind, at whose command nations 
rise and fall and are regenerated. I implore it of God Him- 
self, that He will fill your minds with the spirit of truth, so 
.that you will be able to find your way through the labyrinth 
of matter laid before you — a labyrinth in which no man's 
life was ever before involved in the whole history of human 
justice or injustice." 

Proceeding to consider the basis upon which the charge 
rested, he says : 

" The unfortunate man whose innocence I am defending 
is arraigned before you of high treason, upon evidence not 
only repugnant to the statute, but such as never yet was 
heard in any capital trial — evidence which, even with all the 
attention you have given to it, I defy any one of you at this 
moment to say of what it consists — evidence (I tremble for 
my boldness, in standing up for the life of a man, when I am 
conscious I am incapable of understanding from it even what 
acts are imputed to him) — evidence which has consumed 
four days in the reading, made up from the unconnected 
writings of men unknown to one another, upon a hundred 
different subjects — evidence the very listening to which has 
filled my mind with unremitting distress and agitation, and 
which, from its discordant nature has suffered me to reap no 
advantage from your indulgence, but which, on the contrary, 
has almost set my brain on fire with the vain endeavour to 
analyse it. . . . But read these books over and over 



21 8 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



again, and let us stand here a year and a day in discoursing 
concerning them, still the question must return to what you, 
and you only, can resolve — Is he guilty of that base, detest- 
able intention to destroy the King? — not whether you sus- 
pect, nor whether it be probable — not whether he may be 
guilty — no, but that ' provably' he is guilty. If you can say 
this upon the evidence, it is your duty to say so, and you 
may with a tranquil conscience return to your families, 
though by your judgment the unhappy object of it must 
return no more to his. Alas! gentlemen, what do I say? 
He has no family to return to ; the affectionate partner of 
his life has already fallen a victim to the surprise and horror 
which attended the scene now transacting. But let that 
melancholy reflection pass — it should not, perhaps, have 
been introduced — it certainly ought to have no weight with 
you who are to judge upon your oaths. I do not stand here 
to desire you to commit perjury from compassion ; but, at 
the same time, my earnestness may be forgiven, since it pro- 
ceeds from a weakness common to us all, I claim no merit 
with the prisoner for my zeal ; it proceeds from a selfish prin- 
ciple inherent in the human heart. I am counsel, gentle- 
men, for myself. In every word I utter, I feel that I am 
pleading for the safety of my own life, for the lives of my 
children after me, for the happiness of my country, and for 
the universal condition of civil society throughout the 
world." 

Erskine, perceiving that the jury was with him, adverted 
to the consequence of the principle on which the prosecution 
was founded, in the following words : 

" The delegates who attended the meetings could not be 
supposed to have met with a different intention from those 
who sent them ; and if the answer to that is, that the constit- 
uents are involved in the guilt of their representatives, we 
get back to the monstrous position from which I observed 
you before to shrink with visible horror when I stated it — as 
it involves in the fate of this single trial every man who cor- 
responded with these societies, or who, as a member of socie- 
ties in any part of the kingdom, consented to the meeting 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 2 1 9 



which was assembled, or to the meeting which was in pros- 
pect. Upwards of forty thousand persons, upon the lowest 
calculation, must alike be liable to the pains and penalties 
of the law, and hold themselves as tenants at will of the crown. 
The campaign of Judge Jeffreys, in the west was nothing to 
what may follow. In whatever aspect, therefore, this prose- 
cution is regarded, new difficulties and new uncertainties and 
terrors surround it." 

The manner in which Erskine handled one of the witnesses 
for the prosecution — a government spy — is interesting as 
illustrating his manner of commenting upon the testimony 
of witnesses, one of the most important functions of an advo- 
cate before a jury : 

" Mr. Grove professed to speak from notes, yet I observed 
him frequently looking up to the ceiling whilst he was speak- 
jng — when I said to him : ' Are you now speaking from a note ? 
Have you got any note of what you are now saying ? ' He 
answered : ' Oh no ; this is from recollection.' Good God 
Almighty ! Recollection mixing itself up with notes in a case 
of HIGH TREASON ! He did not even take down the words ; 
nay, to do the man justice, he did not even affect to have 
taken the words, but only the substance, as he himself expressed 
it. Oh, excellent evidence ! The substance of words taken 
down by a spy, and supplied where defective by his memory ! 
But I must not call him a spy, for it seems he took them 
bona fide as a delegate, and yet bona fide as a reformer. 
What a happy combination of fidelity ! faithful to serve and 
faithful to betray! — correct to record for the benefit of the 
society, and correct to dissolve and to punish it ! In the 
last precedent which could be cited of the production of 
such testimony, the case of Lord Stafford, accused of being 
concerned in the Popish Plot — all the proceedings were 
ordered to be taken off the file and burnt, ' to the intent that 
the same might no longer be visible to after ages,' — an order, 
dictated, no doubt, by a pious tenderness for national honour 
and meant as a charitable covering for the crimes of our fa- 
thers. But it was a sin against posterity ; it was treason against 
society ; for instead of being burnt they should have been 



220 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



directed to be blazoned in large letters upon the walls of our 
courts of justice, that, like the characters deciphered by the 
prophet of God to the Eastern tyrant, they might enlarge and 
blacken in your sight to terrify you from acts of injustice." 

A few sentences from the peroration will conclude the 
extracts from this magnificent speech : 

" My firmest wish is that we may not conjure up a spirit to 
destroy ourselves, nor set the example here of what in another 
country we deplore. Let us cherish the old and venerable 
laws of our forefathers. Let our judicial administration be 
strict and pure ; and let the jury of the land preserve the life 
of a fellow-subject, who only asks it from them on the same 
terms under which they hold their own lives, and all that is 
dear to them and their posterity for ever. Let me repeat 
the wish with which I began my address to you, and which 
proceeds from the very bottom of my heart ; may it please 
God, who is the author of all mercies to mankind, whose 
providence I am persuaded guides and superintends the 
transactions of the world, and whose guardian spirit has ever 
hovered over this prosperous island, to direct and fortify 
your judgments ! I am aware I have not acquitted myself 
to the unfortunate man who has put his trust in me in the 
manner I could have wished ; — yet I am unable to proceed 
any farther — exhausted in spirit and in strength — but con- 
fident in the expectation of justice." 

It is said that Erskine's exertions were so great that for 
ten minutes before he sat down he could only whisper to 
the jury, but the stillness was so intense that his faintest 
accents were heard in the remotest parts of the court-room. 

When he finished his speech it is said that an irresistible 
acclamation, pervaded the court and was repeated to an 
immense distance around. 

The streets were crowded with people, and it was some 
time before the judges were able to get to their carriages, 
Erskine went out, and addressed the multitude, asking them 
to confide in the justice of their country. He reminded 
them that the only security of Englishmen was under the 
laws, and that any attempt to overawe them would not only 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 22 1 



bean affront to public justice, but would probably endanger 
the lives of the accused. He then asked them to retire, and 
they immediately dispersed. 

The jury shortly returned a verdict of "Not Guilty." 

To the surprise of everybody, after Hardy's acquittal, 
John Home Tooke was placed on trial. It had been the 
custom from time immemorial for the Government to aban- 
don the prosecution after the acquittal of the first man tried 
of several jointly charged with high treason. 

John Home Tooke was a man of great ability, of popular 
manners, and of unrivalled powers of sarcasm. He was also 
perfectly fearless in court or out. For instance in a case 
where he was his own counsel in an action brought against 
him by Mr. Fox for the expenses of the Westminster elec- 
tion petition, he began his address to the jury as follows: 
" Gentlemen, there are here three parties to be considered — 
You, Mr. Fox, and myself. As for the Judge and the crier, 
they are sent here to preserve order, and they are both well 
paid for their trouble." 

Tooke's health was bad at the time of his arraignment, 
but his mental faculties were unimpaired, as his opponents 
ascertained, to their cost, before the close of the trial. After 
the indictment was read, Tooke was asked how he would be 
tried. Campbell says that, although perfectly confident of 
an acquittal, he gave a foretaste of what might be expected 
during the trial, by putting on the aspect of a man weighed 
down by his oppressors, by looking around the court-room 
some seconds with an air of significant meaning, which few 
assumed better, and by answering while he emphatically 
shook his head, " I would be tried by God and my country ! 

But " Here he paused, having intimated with sufficient 

distinctness that he feared much that he should not have this 
advantage. 

Campbell says : " An application having been made that, 
on account of his infirmities, he might be permitted to sit 
by his counsel, he was told that ' this indulgence should 
be shown him.' Instead of humbly thanking the Judge in 
whose hands he was, and who was by and by to direct the 



222 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



jury on the question of his life or death, he observed, in a 
very quiet familiar tone, ' I cannot help saying, my Lord, 
that if I were a Judge, that word " indulgence " should never 
issue from my lips. My Lord, you have no indulgence to 
show; you are bound to be just; and to be just is to do 
that which is ordered.' " 

Once seated at the table with the counsel, he was the most 
facetious and light-hearted of mortals, and seemed to have 
as much enjoyment in the proceeding as a young advocate 
who has unexpectedly got a brief with a good fee in a win- 
ning cause, which has excited great interest, and by which 
he expects to make his fortune. " Cool and prompt, ready 
at repartee and fond of notoriety, he trod the boards of the 
Old Bailey like some amateur actor pleased with his part, 
and resolved to make the most of it, even though the catas- 
trophe should terminate in his death. After the acquittal 
of Hardy the reverend agitator would have deprecated his 
not being brought to trial as a personal misfortune. It is 
impossible to read this grave state prosecution without fre- 
quently indulging in an involuntary smile. From the con- 
stant merriment which rewarded his sallies, it might be 
guessed that a madder wag never stood at the bar ; and yet 
he rarely laughed himself, but glanced around, from his keen 
and arch eyes, a satirical look of triumph. To the credit of 
Erskine be it stated, that he was not at all annoyed by the 
sallies of his client, although they were sometimes unseason- 
able, nor jealous of the eclat which they brought him ; but, 
on the contrary, encouraged him to interpose, and rejoiced 
in the success of his hits. While the evidence for the prose- 
cution was going on, he seemed content with the office of 
being second to one so perfect in the art of forensic duelling." 

Campbell also gives the following quips of Tooke which 
Erskine highly applauded : 

" Passages being read from pamphlets published by the 
Societies, abusing the King and the Lords, he offered to prove 
that much abuse of himself had been printed on earthenware 
vessels. A witness having said that a treasonable song had 
been sung at a public meeting, he proposed that it should be 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 223 



sung in court, so that the jury might ascertain whether there 
was anything treasonable, resembling Qa ira or the Marseil- 
laise Hymn, in the tune. He not unfrequently succeeded in 
arguing questions of evidence, and if found out to be clearly 
wrong, he took a pinch of snuff, and quietly apologised, by 
saying, that ' he was only a student of forty years' stand- 
ing.' On one occasion, when he objected to the admissi- 
bility of evidence of a particular fact, on the ground that he 
was not connected with it, Eyre reminded him, that if there 
were two or three links to make a chain, they must go to 
one first, and then to another, and see whether the chain was 
made. Home Tooke : ' I beg your pardon, my Lord, but is 
not a chain composed of links? and may I not disjoin each 
link ? and do I not thereby destroy the chain ? ' Eyre, C.-J. : 
* I rather think not, till the links are put together and form 
the chain.' Home Tooke : ' Nay, my Lord, with great sub- 
mission to your Lordship, I rather think that I may, because 
it is my business to prevent the forming of that chain.' 
To prove him to be a republican, evidence was given that a 
society, of which he was a member, had approved of certain 
proceedings in the National Assembly. ' Egad,' said he, 
' it is lucky we did not say there were some good things in 
the Koran, or we should have been charged to be Mahome- 
tans.' Having put questions to show that at public meetings 
they had often disapproved of his sentiments and his conduct, 
he gave a knowing nod to the jury, and said: ' My object, 
gentlemen, was to show that after I had deposed our Lord 
the King, I was likely to have very troublesome subjects, for 
I was constantly received with hisses." By putting the fol- 
lowing question, he excited a roar of laughter against the 
solemn and empty Beaufoy, who pretended hardly to know 
him, and denied all recollection of a date to which he was 
interrogated : ' Now, witness, upon your oath, was it not the 
very day that you complained so bitterly to me you could 
not sleep because, notwithstanding all your services to Mr. 
Pitt, and all the money you had spent in his cause, he had 
refused to return your bow ? ' Few were aware at the time 
that this was pure invention, to expose a tuft-hunter. The 



224 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Attorney-General, in repelling some insinuations thrown out 
against him for the manner in which he had instituted these 
prosecutions, said, ' he could endure anything but an attack 
on his good name ; it was the little patrimony he had to leave 
to his children, and with God's help he would leave it unim- 
paired.' He then burst into tears, which, from his lachry- 
mose habit, surprised no one ; but to the wonder of all, the 
Solicitor-General, not known to be of the melting mood, be- 
came equally affected and sobbed in concert with his friend. 
Tooke, afraid that this sympathy might extend to the jury, 
exclaimed in a stage whisper : ' Do you know what Sir John 
Mitford is crying about ? He is thinking of the destitute 
condition of Sir John Scott's children, and the little patri- 
mony they are likely to divide among them.' ' ! 

Erskine's speech, in defence, was excellent, almost as good 
as that in behalf of Hardy. In commenting upon the au- 
thorities cited by his opponents, he said : " To give the case 
of Lord Lovat any bearing upon the present, you must first 
prove that our design was to arm, and I shall then admit the 
argument and the conclusion. But has such proof been given 
on the present trial? It has not been attempted ; the abor- 
tive evidence of arms has been abandoned. Even the solitary 
pike that formerly glared rebellion from the corner of the 
court, no longer makes its appearance, and the knives have 
returned to their ancient office of carving. Happy was it 
indeed for me that they were ever produced, for so perfectly 
common were they throughout all England, and so notori- 
ously in use for the most ordinary purposes, that public jus- 
tice and benevolence, shocked at the perversion of truth in 
the evidence concerning them, kept pouring them in upon 
me from all quarters. The box before me is half full of them, 
and if all other trades fail me, I might now set up a cutler's 
shop." 

He pointed out the improbability of the charge against 
Tooke as follows : " Yet this gentleman, greatly advanced in 
years, and broken in health, who was shut up then and long 
before, within the compass of his house and garden at Wim- 
bledon, where he used to wish that an act of Parliament 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 22$ 



might confine him for life — who was painfully devoting the 
greatest part of his time to the advancement of learning — 
who was absorbed in researches which will hereafter astound 
the world — who was at that very moment engaged in a work 
such as the labour of man hardly ever undertook, nor perhaps 
his ingenuity ever accomplished — who never saw the Con- 
stitutional Society but in the courtesy of a few short mo- 
ments after dining with some of the most respectable 
members, and who positively objected to the very measure 
which is the whole foundation of this prosecution, — is yet 
gravely considered to be the master-spirit which was con- 
tinually directing all the movements of a conspiracy as ex- 
tensive as the island — the planner of a revolution in the 
government, and the active head of an armed rebellion. 
Gentlemen, is this a proposition to be submitted to the judg- 
ment of honest and enlightened men, upon a trial of life and 
death ? Why, there is nothing in the Arabian Knights or in 
the Tales of the Fairies which is not dull matter of fact com- 
pared with it. . Filled with indignation that an inno- 
cent man should be consigned to a prison for treading in the 
very steps which had conducted the Premier to his present 
situation, Mr. Home Tooke did write ' that if ever that man 
should be brought to trial for his desertion of the cause of 
parliamentary reform, he hoped the country would not con- 
sent to send him to Botany -Bay ' ; but whatever you may 
think of this sentiment, Mr. Tooke is not indicted for com- 
passing and imagining the death of William Pitt." 

The flimsy case against Home Tooke rested chiefly upon the 
following letter addressed, to one Joyce, one of the alleged 
conspirators : " Dear Citizen : — This morning at six o'clock 
citizen Hardy was taken away by order from the Secretary of 
State's office : they seized everything they could lay hands 
on. Query. — Is it possible to get ready by Thursday ? " This 
evidence was disposed of by Erskine, as follows : " This 
letter being intercepted, was packed into the green box and 
reserved to establish the plot. It is another lesson of cau- 
tion against vague suspicions. Mr. Tooke having under- 
taken to collect from the Court Calendar a list of the titles, 



226 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



offices, and pensions bestowed by Mr. Pitt on his relations, 
friends, and dependants, and being too correct to come out 
with a work of that magnitude and extent upon a short no- 
tice, had fixed no time for it — which induced Mr. Joyce, 
who was anxious for its publication, to ask if he could be 
ready with it by Thursday — using the French designation of 
'citizen ' for the purpose of turning it into ridicule ! " 

Erskine then said : " To expose further the extreme ab- 
surdity of this accusation, if it be possible further to expose 
it, let me imagine that we are again at peace with France, 
while the other nations who are now our allies should con- 
tinue to prosecute the war, — would it then be criminal to 
congratulate France upon her success against them ? When 
that time arrives, might I not honestly wish the triumph of 
the French armies ? And might I not lawfully express that 
wish ? I know certainly that I might — and I know also that 
I would ! I observe that this sentiment seems a bold one ; but 
who is prepared to tell me that I shall not ? I WILL assert 
the freedom of an Englishman ; I WILL maintain the dignity 
of man. I WILL vindicate and glory in the principles which 
raised this country to her pre-eminence among the nations 
of the earth ; and as she shone the bright star of the morn- 
ing to shed the light of liberty upon nations which now en- 
joy it, so may she continue in her radiant sphere to revive 
the ancient privileges of the world, which have been lost, 
and still to bring them forward to tongues and people who 
have never yet known them, in the mysterious progression 
of things." 

Erskine's peroration was admirable : " I cannot conclude 
without observing that the conduct of this abused and un- 
fortunate gentleman throughout the whole of this trial has 
certainly entitled him to admiration and respect. I had 
undoubtedly prepared myself to conduct his cause in a man- 
ner totally different from that which I have pursued. It 
was my purpose to have selected those parts of the evidence 
only by which he was affected, and to have separated him 
from the rest. By such a course I could have steered his 
vessel safely through all perils, and brought her without 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 227 



damage into a harbour of safety, while the other unfortunate 
prisoners were left to ride out this awful tempest. But he 
would not suffer his defence to be put upon the footing 
which discretion would have suggested. Though not impli- 
cated in the supposed conspiracy, he has charged me to 
waste and destroy my strength to prove that no such guilt 
can be brought home to others. I rejoice in having been 
made the humble instrument of so much good — my heart 
was never so much in any cause." 

At the conclusion of the judge's charge, the jury immedi- 
ately returned a verdict of " Not Guilty." The Government 
was not yet satisfied and, consequently, a third prisoner, 
Thelwall was put upon trial. Thelwall was a fool, and 
ought to have been hung two or three times, on general 
principles. He frequently interfered with Erskine during 
the progress of the trial, and at one time he was so much 
dissatisfied, that he wrote on a piece of paper, which he 
threw to Erskine, " I '11 be hanged if I don't plead my own 
cause"; upon which his counsel returned for answer: 
"You '11 be hanged if you do." 

The Government endeavoured to make this case as short 
as possible, and it ended early on the third day. In the 
conduct of the cause Erskine displayed his usual zeal and 
ability. One passage of. his speech, in which he sought to 
destroy the effect of very indiscreet and very intemperate 
language against the Government imputed to the prisoner 
by a spy, was admirable. After making an attack upon the 
credibility of the witness, Erskine proceeded as follows : 

" Even if the very phrase had not been exaggerated, if the 
particular sentence had not been coloured or distorted, what 
allowance ought there not to be made for infirmity of tem- 
per, and the faults of the tongue, in a period of intense 
excitement. Let me ask, who would be safe, if every loose, 
word, if every vague expression, uttered in the moment of 
inadvertence or irritation, were to be admitted as sufficient 
evidence of a criminal purpose of the most atrocious nature ? 
In the judgment of God we should, indeed, be safe, because 
He knows the heart — He knows the infirmities with which He 



228 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



hath clothed us, and makes allowance for those errors which 
arise from the imperfect state of our nature. From that 
perfect acquaintance which He possesses with our frame, He 
is qualified to regard in their proper point of view the invol- 
untary errors of the misguided mind, and the intemperate 
effusions of the honest heart. With respect to these, in the 
words of a beautiful moral writer, ' the accusing angel, who 
flies up to Heaven's chancery, blushes as he gives them in, 
and the recording angel, as he writes them down, drops a 
tear upon the words and blots them out for ever.' Who is 
there that in the moment of levity or of passion has not 
adopted the language of profaneness, and even trifled with 
the name of the God whom he adores? Who has not in an 
unguarded hour, from a strong sense of abuse, or a quick 
resentment of public misconduct, inveighed against the 
Government to which he is most firmly attached ? Who has 
not, under the impulse of peevishness and misapprehension, 
made use of harsh and unkind expressions, even with respect 
to his best and dearest relations — expressions which, if they 
were supposed to proceed from the heart, would destroy all 
the affection and confidence of private life ? If there is such 
a man present so uniformly correct in expression, so guarded 
from mistake, so superior to passion, let him stand forth, let 
him claim all the praise due to a character so superior to the 
common state of humanity. For myself, I will only say, 
I am not the man" 

The jury returned a verdict of " Not Guilty." The Attor- 
ney-General, after the acquittal of Thelwall, declined to pro- 
ceed against the other prisoners, and they were acquitted 
without any evidence being offered against them. 

Erskine was employed, some time after the trial of Thel- 
wall, to prosecute a bookseller by the name of Williams 
for a blasphemous libel on the Christian religion. The 
Government took the ground that a wider circulation 
would only be given to the book by the notoriety of a pub- 
lic trial and abstained from prosecuting. " The Society for 
the Suppression of Vice and Immorality," preferred the in- 
dictment. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 229 



A few extracts from his eloquent speech in this case will 
well repay an attentive perusal : 

11 ' For my own part, gentlemen, I have been ever deeply 
devoted to the truths of Christianity ; and my firm belief in 
the Holy Gospel is by no means owing to the prejudices of 
education (though I was religiously educated by the best of 
parents), but has arisen from the fullest and most continued 
reflections of my riper years and understanding. It forms 
at this moment the great consolation of a life which as a 
shadow passes away ; and without it I should consider my 
long course of health and prosperity (too long, perhaps, and 
too uninterrupted to be good for any man) only as the dust 
which the wind scatters, and rather as a snare than as a 
blessing/ Having read and commented on some of the 
most obnoxious parts of the book, he continued : ' In run- 
ning the mind over the long list of sincere and devout 
Christians, I cannot help lamenting that Newton had not 
lived to this day to have had the darkness of his under- 
standing illuminated by this new flood of light. But the 
subject is too awful for irony. I will speak plainly and 
directly. Newton was a Christian ! — Newton, whose mind 
burst forth from the fetters fastened by nature upon our 
finite conceptions ! — Newton, who carried the line and rule 
to the uttermost barriers of creation, and explained the 
principles by which all created matter exists and is held 
together! ' In a similar strain he appealed to the testi- 
mony of Boyle, Locke, and Hale, and then introduced a still 
greater name : ' But it is said by the author that the Chris- 
tian's fable is but the tale of the more ancient superstitions 
of the world, and may be easily detected by a proper under- 
standing of the mythologies of the heathens. Did Milton 
understand these mythologies ? Was HE less versed than 
Mr. Paine in the superstitions of the world ? No ! they 
were the subjects of his immortal song, and he poured them 
forth from the stores of a memory rich with all that man ever 
knew, and laid them in their order as the illustration of real 
and exalted faith— the unquestionable source of that fervid 
genius which has cast a shade on the other works of man : 



23O HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time, 
The living throne, the sapphire blaze, 
Where angels tremble while they gaze. 
He saw — but, blasted with excess of light, 
Closed his eyes in endless night." 

But it was the light of the body only which was extin- 
guished. The celestial light shone inward, and enabled him 
to "justify the ways of God to man" 

Before concluding, Erskine pays a tribute to the benefits 
of free and enlightened discussion : 

" I do not dread the reasonings of Deists against the 
existence of Christianity itself, because, as was said by its 
Divine Author, if it be of God it will stand. An intellect- 
ual book, however erroneous, addressed to the intellectual 
world, upon so profound and complicated a subject, can 
never work the mischief which this indictment is calculated 
to repress. Such works will only incite the minds of men, 
cultivated by study, to a closer investigation of a subject 
well worthy of their deepest and continued contemplation. 
The changes produced by such reciprocations of lights and 
intelligences are certain in their progression, and make their 
way imperceptibly by the final and irresistible power of 
truth. If Christianity be founded in falsehood, let us become 
Deists in this manner, and I am contented. But this book 
has no such object, and no such capacity ; it presents no 
arguments to the wise and the educated ; on the contrary, 
it treats the faith and opinion held sacred by the British 
people, with scoffing and ribaldry, and tends to make the 
thoughtless multitude view with contempt the obligations 
of law and the precepts of morality." 

The jury instantly found a verdict of " Guilty." 

Erskine thought very highly of his speech in this case. 
In a letter to Lord Campbell in reference to this prosecu- 
tion he said : " My opening speech, correctly as it was 
uttered in court, is in Mr. Ridgway's collection of my 
speeches at the bar. It was first printed by the Society 
and circulated to a very wide extent, — 'which gave me the 
greatest satisfaction ; as I would rather all my other speeches 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 23 1 



were committed to the flames, or in any manner buried in 
oblivion, than that a single page of it should be lost." 

Erskine said that none of his speeches had been so much 
*' admired and approved " as his speech in defence of Had- 
field. This was the last case where he defended a prisoner 
accused by the Crown. James Hadfield was indicted for 
shooting at King George III. in Drury Lane Theatre. 
Erskine put in the plea of insanity. The case made out 
by the prosecution made a deep impression upon the minds 
of the court and jury. 

It is said that Erskine began his address to the jury in 
a subdued and solemn tone, in order that he might win the 
sympathies of the jury, and to prepare them for the dis- 
cussion of the important question arising from the distinc- 
tion between the " insanity of passion, unaccompanied by 
delusion, and that total derangement of the intellectual 
faculties which ought to exempt from punishment acts the 
most atrocious." The few extracts which follow are all that 
will be given, but the whole speech should be studied by 
lawyers and physicians for its philosophical and accurate 
views of mental disease, as well as for its eloquence and 
touching appeals to human feeling. Erskine said : 

" The scene which we are engaged in, and the duty which 
I am not merely privileged but appointed by the authority 
of the Court to perform, exhibits to the whole civilised 
world a perpetual monument of our national justice. The 
transaction, indeed, in every part of it, as it stands recorded 
in the evidence already before us, places our country and 
its government and its inhabitants upon the highest pinnacle 
of human elevation. It appears that upon the 15th of May 
last, His Majesty, after a reign of forty years, not merely 
in sovereign power, but spontaneously, in the very hearts 
of his people, was openly shot at (or to all appearance shot 
at) in a public theatre in the centre of his capital, and amidst 
the loyal plaudits of his subjects ; YET NOT A HAIR OF THE 
HEAD OF THE SUPPOSED ASSASSIN WAS TOUCHED. In this 
unparalleled scene of calm forbearance, the King himself, 
though he stood first in personal interest and feeling, as 



232 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



well as in command, was a singular and fortunate example. 
The least appearance of emotion on the part of that august 
personage must unavoidably have produced a scene quite 
different and far less honourable than the Court is now wit- 
nessing : but his Majesty remained unmoved, and the per- 
son apparently offending was only secured, without injury 
or reproach, for the business of this day." After the advo- 
cate had gracefully insinuated himself into the favour of 
the jury, by an appeal to their loyal sympathies, he comes 
to discuss the question on which their verdict was to 
depend : " It is agreed by all jurists, and is established by 
the law of this and every other country, that it is the reason 
of man which makes him accountable for his actions, and 
that the deprivation of reason acquits him of crime. This 
principle is indisputable ; yet so fearfully and wonderfully 
are we made, — so infinitely subtle is the spiritual part of 
our being, — so difficult is it to trace with accuracy the effect 
of diseased intellect upon human action, that I may appeal 
to all who hear me, whether there are any causes more dif- 
ficult, or which indeed so often confound the learning of 
the judges themselves, as when insanity, or the effects and 
consequences of insanity, become the subjects of legal 
consideration and judgment? Your province, to-day, will 
be to decide whether the prisoner, when he did the act, 
was under the uncontrollable dominion of insanity, and was 
impelled to do it by a morbid delusion, or whether it 
was the act of a man who, though occasionally mad, or even 
at the time not perfectly collected, was yet not actuated by 
the disease, but by the suggestion of a wicked and malig- 
nant disposition. It is true, indeed, that in some, perhaps 
in many cases, the human mind is stormed in its citadel, and 
laic! prostrate under the stroke of frenzy ; these unhappy 
sufferers, however, are not so much considered by physi- 
cians as maniacs, as in a state of delirium from fever. 
There, indeed, all the ideas are overwhelmed, for reason 
is not merely disturbed, but driven from her seat. Such 
unhappy patients are unconscious, therefore, except at short 
intervals, even of external objects, or at least are wholly 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 233 



incapable of understanding their relations. Such persons, 
and such persons alone (except idiots), are wholly deprived 
of their understandings, in the Attorney-General's sense of 
that expression. But these cases are not only extremely 
rare, but can never become the subjects of judicial difficulty. 
There can be but one judgment concerning them. In other 
cases Reason is not driven from her seat, but Distraction 
sits down upon it along with her, holds her trembling upon 
it, and frightens her from her propriety. Such patients are 
victims to delusions of the most alarming description, which 
so overpower the faculties, and usurp so firmly the power 
of realities, as not to be dislodged and shaken by the organs 
of perception and sense : in such cases the images frequently 
vary, but in the same subjects are generally of the same 
terrific character. Delusion, therefore, when there is no 
frenzy or raving madness, is the true character of insanity ; 
and where it cannot be predicted on a man standing for life 
or death for a crime, he ought not, in my opinion, to be 
acquitted ; and if courts of law were to be governed by 
any other principle, every departure from sober rational 
conduct would be an emancipation from criminal justice. 
I shall place my claim to your verdict upon no such danger- 
ous foundation. . I must convince you not only that the 
unhappy prisoner was a lunatic within my own definition 
of lunacy, but that the act in question was the IMMEDIATE 
UNQUALIFIED OFFSPRING OF THE DISEASE." 

Erskine related, in the course of his speech, an extraordi- 
nary instance of monomania : 

"A man of the name of Wood had indicted Dr. Monro, 
for keeping him as a prisoner, when he was sane. He under- 
went a most severe cross-examination from the defendant's 
counsel without exposing his infirmity : but Dr. Battye 
having come upon the bench by me, and having desired 
me to ask him ' what was become of the Princess with whom 
he had corresponded in cherry-juice,' he showed in a moment 
what he was. He answered, that ' there was nothing at all 
in that, because having been (as everybody knew) impris- 
oned in a high tower, and being debarred the use of ink, 



234 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



he had no other means of correspondence but by writing 
his letters in cherry-juice, and throwing them into the river 
which surrounded the tower, where the Princess received 
them in a boat.' There existed of course no tower, 
no imprisonment, no writing in cherry-juice, no river, no 
boat, no princess, — but the whole was the inveterate phan- 
tom of a morbid imagination. I immediately directed Dr. 
Monro to be acquitted. But this madman again indicted 
Dr. Monro, in the city of London, through a part of which 
he had been carried to his place of confinement. Knowing 
that he had lost his cause by speaking of the Princess, at 
Westminster, (such is the wonderful subtlety of madmen,) 
— when he was cross-examined on the trial in London, as 
he had successfully been before, in order to expose his mad- 
ness, all the ingenuity of the Bar, and all the authority of 
the Court, could not make him say a single syllable upon 
that topic which had put an end to the indictment before, 
although he still had the same indelible impression upon 
his mind, as he signified to those who were near him ; but, 
conscious that the delusion had caused his former defeat, 
he obstinately persisted in holding it back. His evidence 
at Westminster was then proved against him by the short- 
hand writer ; — and I again directed an acquittal." 

According to Lord Campbell : 

" Efskine opened in the following affecting words, which 
are said to have drawn tears from almost all present, — the 
evidence he was to give of a recent attempt by the prisoner 
upon the life of a child whom he tenderly loved : ' To 
proceed to the proofs of his insanity down to the very pe- 
riod of his supposed guilt : This unfortunate man before you 
is the father of an infant of eight months, and I have no 
doubt whatever that, if the boy had been brought into 
court (but this is a grave place for the administration of 
justice, and not a theatre for stage effect), — I say, I have no 
doubt whatever that, if this poor infant had been brought 
into court, you would have seen the father writhing with all 
the emotions of parental affection ; yet upon the Tuesday 
preceding the Thursday when he went to the play-house, 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 235 



you will find his disease still urging him forward, with the 
impression that the time was come when he must be 
destroyed for the benefit of mankind ; and in the confusion, 
or rather delirium, of this wild conception, he came to the 
bed of the mother who had this infant in her arms, and, 
snatching it from her, was about to dash out its brains 
against the wall in her presence when his arm was arrested 
from the dreadful attempt." 

Lord Kenyon stopped the trial after a few witnesses had 
been examined, on the ground that a case of insanity had 
been made out at the time when the pistol was fired. 
Hadfield was sent to the asylum, where he remained many 
years. 

The author has said nothing of Erskine's career as a 
member of parliament, nor of his qualifications for the 
office of Lord Chancellor, neither will he do so, for the 
reason that he was not distinguished in either capacity. 
Erskine was returned to parliament for Portsmouth in 1783, 
and was made Lord Chancellor in 1806. 

Erskine died on the 17th day of November, 1823. 

The life of Lord Erskine should exercise a salutary influ- 
ence on the younger members of the legal profession. It 
should constantly remind them of the noble objects of that 
noble profession, and impress indelibly upon their minds 
the great truth, that its highest rewards can only be attained 
by the advocate who is honest and strictly faithful to the 
interests of clients : He should be, as Erskine was, imbued, 
deeply, with the principles of patriotism and a passionate 
love of his highly honourable profession. He should ever be, 
too, keenly alive to human suffering, and reflect that it often 
becomes his duty to remember the forgotten, to attend the 
neglected, and visit the forsaken. 

Lord Campbell says of Erskine : 

" Many generations may pass away before his equal is 
presented to the admiration of mankind. Of course I do 
not refer to his qualifications as a judge : and can only say 
of him as a politician, that he was ever consistently attached 
to the principles of freedom, though by no means above the 



236 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



prejudices of education and country. As a parliamentary- 
debater he was greatly inferior to several of his contempo- 
raries ; and even in our own degenerate age we could out- 
match him. But as an advocate in the forum, I hold him 
to be without an equal in ancient or in modern times. 

" Notwithstanding the flippant observations of some who 
can write and speak very fine sentences, without any notion 
of the real business of life, and who pretend to despise that 
for which they themselves would have been found utterly 
unfit, I boldly affirm that there is no department of human 
intellect in which the mens divinior may be more refulgently 
displayed. I despise, as much as they can do, the man 
wearing a gown, be it of bombasin or of silk, who is merely 
' prceco actionum, cantor for miliar um, auceps syllabarum,' — or 
who sordidly thinks only of amassing money, and regulates 
his attendance and his exertions according to the fee marked 
on his brief. But let us imagine to ourselves an advocate 
inspired by a generous love of fame, and desirous of hon- 
ourably assisting in the administration of justice, by obtain- 
ing redress for the injured and defending the innocent, — who 
has liberally studied the science of jurisprudence, and has 
stored his mind, and refined his taste, by a general acquaint- 
ance with elegant literature, — who has an intuitive insight 
into human character and the workings of human passion, — 
who possesses discretion as well as courage, and caution 
along with enthusiasm, — who is not only able by his powers 
of persuasion to give the best chance of success to every 
client whom he represents in every variety of private causes, 
but who is able to defeat conspiracies against public liberty, 
to be carried into effect by a perversion of the criminal law, 
— and who, by the victories which he gains, and the princi- 
ples which he establishes, places the free constitution of his 
country on an imperishable basis ! Such an advocate was 
Erskine ; and although he did creditably maintain his family 
by professional honor aries voluntarily presented to him, he 
was careless as to their amount, and he was ready on every 
proper occasion to exert his best energies without any 
reward beyond the consciousness of doing his duty. Such 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 237 



an advocate, in my opinion, stands quite as high in the 
scale of true greatness as the parliamentary leader who ably 
opens a budget, who lucidly explains a new system of com- 
mercial policy, or who dexterously attacks the measures of 
the government. Certainly different qualities of mind as 
well as different acquirements are demanded for these two 
kinds of eloquence ; and it may be admitted that in senato- 
rial deliberations there is a greater scope for an enlarged 
view of human affairs, and that there only can be discussed 
the relative rights, duties, and interests of nations. But the 
forensic proceeding, though between private parties, or 
between the state and individual citizens, and though con- 
fined to a comparatively narrow field of investigation and of 
argument, has great advantages, from the intense and con- 
tinued interest which it excites, — for, like a grand drama, it 
has often a well-involved plot, and a catastrophe which can- 
not be anticipated, rousing all the most powerful sympathies 
of our nature, — and sometimes, as on the impeachment of 
Lord Strafford, or the Treason Trials of 1794, the fate of 
the empire may depend upon the verdict. Look to the 
recorded efforts of genius in both departments. I will not 
here enter into a comparison of the respective merits of the 
different sorts of oratory handed down to us from antiquity, 
but I may be allowed to observe that, among ourselves, in 
the hundred and fifty volumes of Hansard, there are no 
specimens of parliamentary harangues which as literary com- 
positions are comparable to the speeches of Erskine at the 
bar, with the exception of Burke's, — and they were delivered 
to empty benches. Do not, therefore, let it be assumed that 
Erskine is degraded into an inferior class of artists because 
he was not a skilful debater. He no doubt would have 
t>een a yet more wonderful creature if he had been as great 
in the senate as in the forum ; but we should recollect that 
in the department of eloquence in which he did shine, he is 
allowed to have excelled, not only all his contemporaries, 
but all who have attempted it in this island, either in prior 
or in subsequent times, — while mankind are greatly divided 
as to the individual to whom the palm of parliamentary elo- 



238 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



quence should be awarded ; — and there will again probably be 
a debater equal to Pitt the father, Pitt the son, Fox, Sheridan, 
Burke, or Grey, before there arises an advocate equal to 
Erskine. 

" Some have denied the possibility of his great pre- 
eminence, on account of his limited stock of general 
knowledge, but, although much culture is indispensable to 
the development of the intellectual powers, and to the 
refinement of taste, this culture may be applied, without 
the knowledge of a great variety of languages, and without 
any deep insight into science. No Greek knew any lan- 
guage but that which he learned from his nurse ; and Shakes- 
peare could not have gone through an examination as hard 
as that of many modern parish schools. Far be it from 
me to discourage the acquisiton of classical and scientific 
lore : this is delightful in itself, and it gives the best chance 
of success in every liberal pursuit ; but where true genius 
exists, it may be brought into full operation and efficiency 
by suitable discipline within very narrow limits ; and a man 
may be superior to all others in his art, and be ignorant of 
many things which it is disgraceful to the common herd of 
mortals not to know. Let it not be said, therefore, that 
Erskine could not, better than any other man, lead the 
understandings and control the passions of his audience 
when arguing a point of constitutional law, or appealing to 
the affections of domestic life, because he talked nonsense if 
he indiscreetly offered an opinion upon a question of prosody 
or of political economy. His moderate acquaintance with 
the Latin poets, and his intense and unremitting study of 
the best English writers, both in prose and verse, had taught 
him to think, and had supplied him w r ith a correct, chaste, 
forcible, and musical diction, in which to express his 
thoughts. Although, judged by his common conversation, 
he was sometimes very lightly esteemed, — listen to his dis- 
courses when he is rescuing from destruction the intended 
victim of arbitrary government, or painting the anguish of 
an injured husband, and he appears to breathe celestial fire. 

" In considering the characteristics of his eloquence, it is 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 239 



observable that he not only was free from measured senten- 
tiousness and tiresome attempts at antithesis, but that he 
was not indebted for his success to riches of ornament, to 
felicity of illustration, to wit, to humour, or to sarcasm. His 
first great excellence was his devotion to his client, and in 
the whole compass of his orations, there is not a single 
instance of the business in hand — the great work of per- 
suading — -being sacrificed to raise a laugh or to excite admi- 
ration of his own powers. He utterly forgot himself in 
the character he represented. Through life he was often 
ridiculed for vanity and egotism, — but not for anything he 
ever said, or did, in conducting a cause in a court of justice. 
There, from the moment the jury were sworn, he thought of 
nothing but the verdict, till it was recorded in his favour. 
Earnestness and energy were ever present throughout his 
speeches — impressing his argument on the mind of his 
hearer with a force which seemed to compel conviction. He 
never spoke at a tiresome length ; and throughout all his 
speeches no weakness, no dulness, no flagging is discovera- 
ble ; and we have ever a lively statement of facts, — or rea- 
soning pointed, logical, and triumphant. 

" I think I ought particularly to mention the familiar knowl- 
edge he displays of the most secret workings of the human 
mind. How finely he paints the peril arising from the per- 
version of what is good ! * Some of the darkest and most 
dangerous prejudices of men arise from the most honoura- 
ble principles. When prejudices are caught up from bad 
passions, the worst of men feel intervals of remorse to soften 
and disperse them ; but when they arise from a generous 
though mistaken source, they are hugged closer to the bo- 
som, and the kindest and most compassionate natures feel 
a pleasure in fostering a blind and unjust resentment.' He 
spoke as his clients respectively would have spoken, being 
endowed with his genius. ' The dervise in the fairy tale, 
who possessed the faculty of passing his own soul into the 
body of any whom he might select, could scarcely surpass 
Erskine in the power of impersonating for a time the feel- 
ings, wishes, and thoughts of others.' 



24O HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" I must likewise mention the delight I feel from the ex- 
quisite sweetness of his diction, which is pure, simple, and 
mellifluous, — the cadences not being borrowed from any 
model, nor following any rule, but marked by constant har- 
mony and variety. The rhythm of the Indian Chief is, I 
think, more varied, richer, and more perfect than that of 
any passage from any other composition in our language. 

" When the great Lord Chatham was to appear in public, 
he took much pains about his dress, and latterly he arranged 
his flannels in graceful folds. It need not then detract from 
our respect for Erskine, that on all occasions he desired to 
look smart, and that when he went down into the country 
on special retainers he anxiously had recourse to all manner 
of innocent little artifices to aid his purposes. He examined 
the court the night before the trial, in order to select the 
more advantageous place for addressing the jury. On the 
cause being called, the crowded audience were perhaps kept 
waiting a few minutes before the celebrated stranger made 
his appearance ; and when, at length, he gratified their im- 
patient curiosity, a particularly nice wig and a pair of new 
yellow gloves distinguished and embellished his person 
beyond the ordinary costume of the barristers of the circuit. 

" It may be more useful to hold up for imitation his admira- 
ble demeanour while engaged in business at the bar, — to 
which, perhaps, his success was not less due than to his tal- 
ents. Respectful to the judges, although ever ready to assert 
his independence, — courteous to the jury, while he boldly 
reminded them of their duties, — free from asperity towards 
his opponents, — constantly kind and considerate to his 
juniors, — treating the witnesses as persons, generally speak- 
ing, reluctantly attending to assist in the investigation of 
truth, — looking benevolently even on the circumstances, and 
glad when he could accommodate them with a seat, — of a 
gay and happy temperament, enjoying uninterruptedly a 
boyish flow of animal spirits, and enlivening the dullest 
cause with his hilarity and good-humour, — he was a univer- 
sal favourite — there was a general desire, as far as law and 
justice would permit, that he should succeed, and the pres- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 24 1 



tige of his reputation was considered the sure forerunner of 
victory. I have myself witnessed, from the student's box, 
towards the conclusion of his career at the bar, his daily 
skirmishes and triumphs; but it is vain to try by words to 
convey to others an idea of the qualities which he displayed, 
or the effect which he produced." 

In justice to the reader, the writer thinks it incumbent on 
him to give other estimates of Erskine's eloquence and pro- 
fessional qualifications, some of which are not so flattering 
as Lord Campbell's. The magic of his eloquence cannot be 
appreciated by those who merely read his speeches. It is 
said that those who saw and heard him were not at a loss to 
account for the rapidity of his success. 

Lord Brougham, an excellent judge of eloquence, and 
himself one of the most eloquent men of his day in the 
senate and the forum, paid the following just tribute to 
Erskine : 

" Nor let it be deemed trivial, or beneath the historian's 
province, to mark that noble figure, every look of whose 
countenance is expressive, every motion of whose form grace- 
ful, an eye that sparkles, and pierces, and almost assures 
victory, while it speaks audience ere the tongue. Juries 
have declared that they felt it impossible to remove their 
looks from him, when he had riveted and, as it were, fasci- 
nated them by his first glance ; and it used to be a common 
remark among men, who observed his motions, that they re- 
sembled those of a blood horse, as light, as limber, as much 
betokening strength and speed, as free from all gross super- 
fluity or incumbrance. Then hear his voice of surpassing 
sweetness, clear, flexible, strong, exquisitely fitted to strains 
of serious earnestness, deficient in compass indeed, and much 
less fitted to express indignation, or even scorn, than pathos, 
but wholly free from harshness or monotony. All these, 
however, and even his chaste, dignified, and appropriate 
action, were very small parts of this wonderful advocate's 
excellence. He had a thorough knowledge of men, of their 
passions, and their feelings — he knew every avenue to the 
heart, and could at will make all its chords vibrate to his 



242 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



touch. His fancy, though never playful in public, where he 
had his whole faculties under the most severe control, was 
lively and brilliant ; when he gave it vent and scope it was emi- 
nently sportive, but while representing his client it was wholly 
subservient to that, in which his whole soul was wrapped up, 
and to which each faculty of body and of mind was subdued 
— the success of the cause. His argumentative powers were 
of the highest order, clear in his statements, close in his ap- 
plications, unwearied, and never to be diverted in his deduc- 
tions, with a quick and sure perception of his point, and 
undeviating in the pursuit of whatever established it ; endued 
with a nice discernment of the relative importance and weight 
of different arguments, and the faculty of assigning to each 
its proper place, so as to bring forward the main body of the 
reasoning in bold relief, and with its full breadth, and not 
weaken its effects by distracting and disturbing the attention 
of the audience among lesser particulars. His understand- 
ing was eminently legal, though he had never made himself 
a great lawyer, yet he could deliver a purely legal argument 
with the most perfect success, and his familiarity with all the 
ordinary matters of his profession was abundantly sufficient 
for the purposes of the forum. His memory was accurate, 
and retentive in an extraordinary degree, nor did he ever 
during the trial of a cause forget any matter, how trifling 
soever, that belonged to it. His presence of mind was per- 
fect in action, that is, before the jury, when a line is to be 
taken in the instant and a question risked to a witness, or a 
topic chosen with the tribunal, on which the whole fate of 
the cause may turn. No man made fewer mistakes, none 
left so few advantages unimproved ; before none was it so 
dangerous for an adversary to slumber and be off his guard, 
for he was ever broad awake himself, and was as adventurous 
as he was skilful, and as apt to take advantage of any the 
least opening, as he was cautious to leave none in his own 
battle. But to all these qualities he joined that fire, that 
spirit, that courage, which gave vigour and direction to the 
whole, and bore down all resistance. No man, with all his 
address and prudence, ever ventured upon more bold figures, 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 243 



and they were uniformly successful, for his imagination was 
vigorous enough to sustain any flight ; his taste was correct, 
and even severe, and his execution felicitous in the highest 
degree." 

" Adequately to estimate what Erskine was at this period, " 
says a brother barrister, " we must forget all that the Eng- 
lish bar has produced after him. They will afford no criterion 
by which he can be appreciated. They are all of inferior 
clay, the mere sweepings of the hall in comparison. Nor is 
it easy to form any tolerable idea of him, but by having seen 
him from day to day, from year to year, in the prime and 
manhood of his intellect, running with graceful facility 
through the chaos of briefs before him ; it is only by that 
personal experience that it is possible to form any notion of 
the admirable versatility with which he glided from one cause 
to another, the irony, the humour, the good nature with 
which he laughed down the adverse cause, and the vehemence 
and spirit with which he sustained his own." 

" I never saw him grave," is the testimony of Espinasse, 
" but with a constant flow of animal spirits he enlivened 
those who surrounded him with whimsical conceits and jokes 
on what was passing. I had a full share of his jeux d* esprit, 
as my place in court was directly at his back." Erskine ob- 
served, how much confidence in speaking was acquired from 
habit and frequent employment. " I don't find it so," said 
Lamb, who happened to be present on one occasion, " for 
though I have a good share of business, I don't find my 
confidence increased ; rather the contrary." "Why," replied 
Erskine, " it is nothing wonderful that a Lamb should grow 
sheepish." 

Erskine loved to play occasionally with the partialities of 
Lord Kenyon. It is said that when a question of law was 
started at a trial, the Chief-Justice pricked up his ears, and 
prepared his note-book to take down the point with great 
formality. In an action for assault, which was tried before 
him at Guildhall, the plaintiff, a giant in size and physical 
strength, kept a house of some notoriety, called " The Cock," 
at Temple Bar. The house was much frequented by country 



244 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



attorneys. It seems from the evidence that " a spruce little 
member of that profession came into the public room one 
evening, booted and spurred as if just off a journey. He 
took his seat in a box, but soon became so noisy and trouble- 
some that the other guests wished to have him turned out, 
and called on the landlord to do so. The lawyer demurred, 
and when pressed, assumed an attitude of defence. The 
landlord, acting under the authority of a habeas corpus of 
his own issuing, took possession of the person of his puny 
antagonist, by catching the little man up in his arms, and 
bearing him in triumph towards the door. The publican's 
embrace, which resembled the friendly hug of a bear, roused 
all the indignant energies of the lawyer ; and being furnished 
with no weapons of defence except his spurs, he sprawled, 
kicked, and spurred so violently that the knees and shins of 
the host of The Cock were covered with blood. For this 
assault the action was brought, and the defendant pleaded 
that plaintiff had made the first assault on him, by forcibly 
taking him in his arms and turning him out of doors. 
Erskine defended him : he described the combat in the most 
ludicrous terms, and, with assumed gravity, appealed to the 
jury if instinct had not pointed out to every animal the best 
means of its defence ; that his client had no weapon of any 
sort to oppose to the violence of the plaintiff, except his spurs, 
which he had therefore lawfully used for self-defence. The 
turn which Erskine's manner of treating it gave to the case, 
caused much laughter in the court, and he was not disposed 
to stop it. To the law cited on the other side, he said he 
would oppose a decisive authority from a book of long stand- 
ing, and entitled to the highest credit. Lord Kenyon, 
expecting that some text book or reporter was going to be 
cited, took up his pen, and put himself into the attitude for 
taking down the point. ' From what authority, Mr. 
Erskine?' said the Chief-Justice. ' From Gulliver's Travels, 
my lord,' was the reply. The whimsical contrast in appear- 
ance of plaintiff and defendant then on the floor presented 
the burlesque representation of Gulliver dandling in the 
arms of his Brobdignag friend. No other barrister would 



OR A TOR Y I A T ENGLAND. 245 



have ventured to trifle so far with the gravity of the Chief; 
but he knew that his anger was sheathed against himself, 
and that if he did shake the head reproachfully, it was in 
good-humour at the jest. The licensed joker of the court, 
the petted school-boy of the robing-room, the gay oracle of 
consultation, — he would follow his whim further than barris- 
ters in general feel inclined to pursue it, and would sport 
with that privileged class, the attornies. He was aware that 
they could not dispense with his talents of advocacy, and 
that whether offended with his witticisms or not, the princi- 
pal anxiety of each on the morrow would be, who should be 
first with his retainer." 

" He attached too little consequence," says Espinasse, 
" to consultations : he relied solely on himself. As they 
always took place in the evening, and his return from 
court had not many hours preceded them, he had very 
rarely read his brief, but reserved it for perusal at an early 
hour in the morning. He therefore sought to relieve his 
mind from the fatigues of the day by unbending it in con- 
versation, or diverting it to something which amused him, 
but which required little thought. I have often observed 
the disappointment of his clients, who attended his consul- 
tations, expecting to hear their cases canvassed with some 
degree of solemnity and attention, to find that he had not 
read a line of his brief, but amused himself with talking 
upon subjects either trifling or wholly unconnected with 
them. I recollect accompaning a client to a consultation at 
his house in Serjeants' Inn. We found on the table thirty 
or forty phial bottles, in each of which was stuck a cutting 
of geranium of different kinds. Our client was all anxiety 
for the appearance of Erskine, and full of impatience for the 
commencement of the consultation, sure that he should 
hear the merits of his case and the objections to it accurately 
gone into, and the law of it canvassed and well considered. 
When Erskine entered the room, what was his disappoint- 
ment at hearing the first words which he uttered ! Erskine 
— ' Do you know how many kinds of geraniums there are ? ' 
' Not I, truly,' was my reply. ' There are above one hun- 



246 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



dred,' he said. He then proceeded with a detail and de- 
scription of the different sorts, and indulged in a discussion 
of their relative beauties and merits. This lecture on 
geraniums evidently disconcerted our client. He listened 
with patient anxiety till he had finished, hoping then to hear 
something about his cause, when he heard him conclude. 
Erskine — ' Now state the case, as I have had no time to 
read my brief.' With my statement of it the consultation 
ended. But our client's disappointment of the evening he 
found amply compensated by Erskine's exertions on the 
following morning, when he heard every point of his case 
put with accuracy and enforced with eloquence. To his 
consultations, in fact, no feature of deliberation belonged. 
If in the course of them any thought struck him, he 
did not reserve the communication of it for a more fit 
occasion, but uttered it as it occurred, though it broke in on 
the subject under discussion, and was wholly foreign to and 
unconnected with it." " At a consultation, in which I was 
junior," says the same writer, " Christie, the auctioneer at- 
tended to give some information. In the middle of it Erskine 
exclaimed, ' Christie, I want a house in the neighborhood of 
Ramsgate, have you got such a one to dispose of ? ' 
' What kind of a house do you want ? ' inquired the auctioneer. 
Erskine described it. ' I have ' said Christie, ' the very thing 
that will suit you, and what is more, I '11 put you into it as 
Adam was put into Paradise, in a state of perfection.' 
These playful humours the fortunate lawyer would sometimes 
carry to an excess, bordering on burlesque. He had a large 
and favourite dog, called Toss, which he had taught to sit 
upon a chair with his paw T s placed before him on the table. 
In that posture he would put an open book before it, with 
one paw placed on each side, and one of his bands tied round 
his neck. This ludicrous exhibition was presented to his 
clients, who came to attend to his consultations. No one 
would have ventured on such a childish experiment, but one 
who felt that the indulgence of a trifling whim did not de- 
tract from the dignity of his professional character, and with 
the perfect assurance of a superior mind, that his clients 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 247 



could find no equal to him at the bar, or in fact do without 
him." 

The auctioneering flourishes of this Christie, so " child-like 
and bland," in his manner to confiding purchasers enabled 
Erskine a favourable opportunity for obtaining verdict for his 
client by dint of laughter from the jury. He was conducting 
a case for the plaintiff in action to recover the deposit 4 
money for an estate which his client had foolishly purchased 
on Christie's representation of its beauties. According to 
the enchanting description given by Christie, the house 
commanded an extensive and beautiful lawn, with a distant 
prospect of the Needles, and as having amongst its numer- 
ous conveniences an excellent billiard-room. " To show 
you, gentlemen," said Erskine, " how egregiously my client 
has been deceived by the defendant's rhetoric, I will tell you 
what this exquisite and enchanting place actually turned out 
to be, when my client, who had paid the deposit on the faith 
of Mr. Christie's advertisement, went down in the fond 
anticipations of his heart to this earthly paradise. When he 
got there, nothing was found to correspond to what he had 
too unwarily expected. There was a house to be sure, and 
that is all — for it was nodding to its fall, and the very rats 
instinctively had quitted it. It stood, it is true, in a com- 
manding situation, for it commanded all the winds and rains 
of heaven. As for lawn, he could find nothing that deserved 
the name, unless it was a small yard, in which, with some 
contrivance, a washerwoman might hang half a dozen shirts. 
There was, however, a dirty lane that ran close to it ; and 
perhaps Mr. Christie may contend that it was an error of the 
press, and therefore, for 'lawn,' we must read 'lane.' 
But where is the billiard room ? exclaimed the plaintiff, in 
the agony of disappointment. At last he was conducted to 
a room in the attic, the ceiling of which was so low that a man 
could not stand upright in it, and therefore must, perforce, 
put himself into the posture of a billiard player. Seeing this, 
Mr. Christie, by the magic of his eloquence, converted the 
place into a 'billiard room.' But the fine view of the Nee- 
dles, gentlemen ; where was it ? No such thing was to be 



248 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



seen, and my poor client might as well have looked for a 
needle in a bottle of hay ! " 

From the preceding anecdotes and those which are to 
follow it must not be thought that Erskine's occasional lev- 
ity was disadvantageous to his client, or that he was lacking 
in earnestness of purpose. He said on one occasion, on the 
opening of the court, that he would do his duty, as if all the 
angels in heaven were taking notes of whatever passed 
through his mind on the subject. 

If Justice Ashurst, long, lean, and lank as he was, had lived 
in the days of Cervantes, he would have made an excellent 
model for a pen picture of Don Quixote. On the visage of 
the Justice before whom he daily practised, he penned the 
following couplet : 

" Judge Ashurst, with his lantern jaws, 
Throws light upon the English laws. " 

He had a kindness for Park, one of his countrymen, who 
afterwards became a judge of the Court of Common Pleas 
but quizzed him occasionally, and he wrote upon him the 
following lines : 

" James Allen Park 
Came naked stark 

From Scotland ; 
But now wears clo'es, 
And lives with beaux 

In England." 

Lord Campbell says, of his skill in examining witnesses r 
" In describing his professional merits, I ought by no means 
to omit his skill in examining witnesses, upon which the 
event of a cause often depends, much more than upon fine 
speaking. When he had to examine in chief, — not, as in 
common fashion, following the order of the proofs as set 
down in the brief, — seemingly without art or effort, he made 
the witness lucidly relate, so as to interest and captivate the 
jury, all the facts that were favorable to his client. In cross- 
examination he could be most searching and severe ; but he 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 249 



never resorted to brow-beating, nor was gratuitously rude. 
Often he carried his point by coaxing, and when the evi- 
dence could not be contradicted, he would try by pleasantry 
to lessen the effect of it. Having to cross-examine a cox- 
combical fellow, belonging to the self-important class of per- 
sons sent by the wholesale houses in London to scour the 
country for orders, — formerly called ' Riders,' now styling 
themselves ' Travellers,' — he began, ' You are a Rider, I 
understand ? ' 'A Traveller, sir,' was the answer. ' I 
might have discovered,' replied Erskine, ' that you consid- 
ered yourself licensed to use all the privileges of a Trav- 
eller? Another of the fraternity having long baffled him, 
he suddenly remarked, ' You were born and bred in Man- 
chester, I perceive ? ' The witness said he could not deny 
it. ' I knew it,' said Erskine, carelessly, ' from the absurd 
tie of your neckcloth.' The travelling dandy's weak point 
was touched ; for he had been dressing after Beau Brummel ; 
and, his presence of mind being gone, he was made to unsay 
the greatest part of his evidence in chief. On the trial of an 
action to recover the value of a quantity of whalebone, the 
defence turning on the quality of the article, a witness was 
called, of impenetrable stupidity, w T ho could not be made to 
distinguish between the two well-known descriptions of this 
commodity — the 'long' and the 'thick.' Still confound- 
ing thick whalebone with long, Erskine exclaimed, in seem- 
ing despair, ' Why, man, you do not seem to know the 
difference between what is thick and what is long \ Now I 
tell you the difference. You are //«V/£-headed, and you are 
not /<?;?£*-headed.' I myself remember, when a student, 
being present when he was counsel for the plaintiff in an 
action on a bailor's bill, — the defence being, that the clothes 
were very ill-made, and, particularly, that the two sleeves of 
a dress-coat were of unequal length. The defendant's wit- 
ness accordingly swore, that ' one of them was longer than 
the other ' ; upon which Erskine thus began : ' Now, sir, will 
you swear that one of them was not shorter than the other. 
The witness negativing this proposition, after an amusing 
reply the plaintiff had the verdict. — The more difficult and 



250 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



delicate task of re-examination he was in the habit of 
performing with equal dexterity, — not attempting clumsily 
to go over the same ground which he had before trod, but, 
by a few questions which strictly arose out of the cross- 
examination, restoring the credit of his witness, and 
tying together the broken threads of his case." 

The professional life of Lord Erskine is useful as an ex- 
ample to, and worthy of imitation by, every lawyer. The 
undaunted and repeated refusal of Erskine to discontinue 
an address he felt it his duty to make, when haughtily 
and imperiously told by a tyrannical judge to sit down, 
the author hopes will never be forgotten. His conduct 
on that occasion has been commended by scores of the 
ablest lawyers of England and America. The bench has 
no right to overshadow the bar, and to expect servility 
and meanness from its members. The bar has rights which 
it has always vigorously maintained, and the author hopes 
it will ever maintain when encroached upon by judicial 
tyranny. 

Erskine's life shows that a time-serving, base demeanour 
toward the judges is not the only road to preferment. By 
his patriotism and independence, united with the highest 
legal excellence, he has exalted, still higher, the useful pro- 
fession to which he belonged. His life is extremely impor- 
tant as showing what one man, single-handed and alone, can 
do against the corruptions of the age in which he lived. In 
this country where, generally speaking, the administration of 
the law flows in such pure channels, where the vast majority 
of our judges are incorruptible, and watched by the scruti- 
nising eyes of an enlightened bar, as well as the jealous 
public, where juries know and exercise their rights, where 
advocates of unimpeachable integrity and unquestioned 
ability can always be found to plead the cause of the op- 
pressed — it is difficult to appreciate the great services per- 
formed by Erskine for the cause of civil liberty. 

Eloquence is the offspring of knowledge and freedom, 
and can never flourish in the blighting shade of despotism. 
Her voice, sweet and entrancing, cannot be heard, when jus- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 25 I 



tice is surrounded by the hosts of corruption, armed with 
steel or with gold. 

Upon the freedom, independence, knowledge, and elo- 
quence of the American bar depend, in a great measure, the 
perpetuity of our most cherished institutions. 

Erskine's alleged failure to support Fox as strenuously as 
he should have done, and his fear of Pitt in debate, his van- 
ity, a weakness which he had in common with many great 
orators, his personal frailities, were all so outweighed by his 
noble qualities that they are hardly worthy of mention. 

The writer cannot forbear giving Talfourd's opinion of 
Erskine, although he by no means approves of the whole of 
what he says : 

. " For that sphere, (the Court of King's Bench,) his powers, 
his acquisitions, and his temperament were exactly framed. 
He brought into it, indeed, accomplishments never displayed 
there before in equal perfection — glancing wit, rich humour, 
infinite grace of action, singular felicity of language, and a 
memory elegantly stored, yet not crowded, with subjects of 
classical and fanciful illustration. Above his audience, he 
was not beyond their sight, and he possessed rare facilities 
of raising them to his own level. In this purpose he was 
aided by his connection with a noble family, by a musical 
voice, and by an eloquent eye, which enticed men to forgive, 
and even to admire his natural polish and refined allusions. 
But his moral qualities tended even more to win them. 
Who could resist a disposition overflowing with kindness, 
animal spirits as elastic as those of a school-boy, and a love 
of gaiety and pleasure which shone out amidst the most anx- 
ious labours ? His very weaknesses became instruments of 
fascination. His egotism, his vanity, his personal frailties, 
were all genial, and gave him an irresistible claim to sympa- 
thy. His warmest colours were drawn, not from the fancy, 
but the affections. If he touched on the romantic, it was 
on the little chapter of romance which belongs to the most 
hurried and feverish life. The unlettered clown and the as- 
siduous tradesman understood him, when he revived some 
bright recollection of childhood, or brought back on the 



252 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



heart the enjoyments of old friendships, or touched the chord 
of domestic love and sorrow. He wielded with skill and 
power the weapons which precedent supplied, but he rarely 
sought for others. When he defended the rights of the 
subject, it was not by abstract disquisition, but by freshen- 
ing up anew the venerable customs and immunities which he 
found sanctioned by courts and parliaments, and infusing 
into them new energy. He entrenched himself within the 
forms of pleading, even when he ventured to glance into 
literature and history. These forms he rendered dignified 
as a fence against oppression, and cast on them sometimes 
the playful hues of his fancy. His powers were not only 
adapted to his sphere, but directed by admirable discretion 
and taste. In small causes he was never betrayed into exag- 
geration, but contrived to give an interest to their details, 
and to conduct them at once with dexterity and grace. . His 
jests told for arguments ; his digressions only threw the jury 
off their guard, that he might strike a decisive blow ; his au- 
dacity was always wise. His firmness was no less under 
right direction than his weaknesses. He withstood the 
bench, and rendered the bar immortal service ; not so much 
by the courage of the resistance, as by the happy selection 
of its time, and the exact propriety of its manner. He was, 
in short, the most consummate advocate of whom we have, 
any trace ; he left his profession higher than he found it ; 
and yet beyond its pale, he was only an incomparable com- 
panion, a lively pamphleteer, and a weak and superficial 
debater." 

It seems, from the concurrent testimony of those who 
were in a position to fairly judge of Erskine's ability, that 
he attained the highest intellectual eminence to which, un- 
der circumstances the most favourable, an advocate can 
reasonably aspire. 

Sir James Scarlett — by which name he is better known 
to the legal profession than by the title of Lord Abinger, 
only held by him for the last few years of his life — was one 
of the most successful advocates of modern times. He 
gained more cases than any of his contemporaries. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 2$$ 



Sir James Scarlett was born on the 13th day of Decem- 
ber, 1769, in the Island of Jamaica. He was the descendant 
of an illustrious family on both sides. His father's ancestors 
had estates in Suffolk and Essex in the reign of Charles II. 
His grandfather, James Scarlett, married the daughter of a 
West Indian proprietor — a relative of General Wolfe, who 
fell at Quebec. Robert, the father of Lord Abinger, mar- 
ried Elizabeth Anglin, whose direct ancestor was President 
of Lord Protector Cromwell's Council during the Common- 
wealth. 

Scarlett's parents, sensible of the corruption of morals in- 
cident to that unhappy state of slavery which existed in 
Jamaica, sent him, at an early age, to England to be edu- 
cated. After his arrival there — having finished his prepara- 
tory studies — he entered himself a student of Trinity College, 
Cambridge. He took the degrees of Bachelor of Arts, and 
Master of Arts at that University. Having entered himself 
and studied law in the Temple, he was called to the Bar on 
the 28th day of July, 1791. Soon after his call to the Bar 
he was married to Miss Louise Henrietta Campbell, the 
daughter of Peter Campbell, Esq., of Kilmary, in Argyll- 
shire. Scarlett says of her : " Her children lived to witness 
her sweet disposition, her divine temper, and consummate 
discretion. I lived with her in uninterrupted comfort and 
happiness from the time of our marriage to the month of 
March, 1829, and have lived ever since to lament her loss." 
For twenty-five years Scarlett remained a junior counsel, 
although he had a good practice. He joined the Northern 
Circuit, and also practiced in the court at Lancaster. 

Scarlett's personal appearance was greatly in his favour, 
and he enjoyed the reputation of being " the handsome bar- 
rister " in the courts which he attended. His complexion 
was singularly clear, fresh, and delicate, and his countenance 
was redolent of health. His features were small, regular, 
and extremely pleasant. He was above the middle height, 
and late in life, Falstafrian in width. 

It is said that Scarlett's handsome, contented, smiling 
countenance often deceived a witness into the belief that 



254 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



whether his answer was yes or no was a matter of very little 
importance. His replies, however, are said to have been his 
great forte. If the issue depended upon the balance of 
testimony, upon contradictory witnesses, no advocate had a 
happier faculty of displaying the weak points of his adver- 
sary's case and the strong points of his own. If it depended 
upon a deduction of inferences, upon the combination of 
many circumstances, upon reconciling evidence apparently 
discordant, he was sure to obtain attention in the commence- 
ment, and to hold it to the conclusion. He made few notes 
of what he intended to say, but arranged all the points in his 
memory, and when he arose his face expressed the certainty 
of a verdict in his favour. He was never tedious, and he 
always exhausted his subject, but never his hearers. 

Scarlett always selected, with consummate judgment, the 
strongest points in his client's cause, and disregarding those 
of minor importance, he presented them to the court with 
unrivalled clearness. Stupid indeed, was the judge or juror 
who could not see the strongest features of his client's case, 
after it had been presented by him. In fact Scarlett was 
so skillful that he would allow them to look at nothing else, 
except what made against the other side. He would not 
allow them to glance at any other object. He presented, 
with surpassing skill, the leading facts and circumstances 
unfavourable to the opposite side, and it has been said, he 
was so remarkably clear and convincing in his reasonings 
that there was no chance to mistake hiis meaning. 

Scarlett had the rare faculty of divesting legal techni- 
calities of their repulsiveness to the mind of the average 
juror, and although he rarely indulged in rhetoric or ora- 
tory, as those terms are usually understood, juries rarely 
tired of listening to his speeches. He did more to enlighten 
the minds of the jury and the audience upon the principles 
of the common law, than any man of his time. An able 
professor, in a score of lectures, could not have done the 
work so effectively. By his talent for simplifying abstruse 
matters, and popularising technicalities, he invariably won 
the good-will and attention of the jury, and he rarely failed 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLA ND. 2$$ 



to make even a jury composed of the most ignorant labourers 
understand, fully, the law and the facts of every case. 

Scarlett had the happy faculty of selecting the most tal- 
ented man on the jury. His penetration in such cases 
amounted to a species of intuition. To the party thus sin- 
gled out, Scarlett addressed himself almost as exclusively as 
if there had been no other juror in the box, and no other 
person in the court. The juror of course felt highly flat- 
tered at being thus distinguished from his fellows, and was 
consequently inclined to be favourably disposed to the advo- 
cate. He was very cheerful in his manner when he ad- 
dressed a jury. He treated the jurors as if he had been upon 
terms of particular intimacy with them all his life. His style 
was conversational. His speeches were seldom laboured. 
He paid little attention to rounding his periods. His man- 
ner of addressing a jury was peculiar. His practice, ordina- 
rily, is said to have been, to fold up the sides of his gown in 
his hands, and then, placing his arms on his breast, smile in 
the faces of the jury from the beginning to the end of his 
speech, talking at the same time to them as if they were 
engaged in a matter of mere friendly conversation. 

The tone of his voice was usually low, but clear and dis- 
tinct. Scarlett was a close observer, and he paid particular 
attention to the effect which the testimony both of his own 
witnesses, and those of his adversaries, had upon the jury. 

It is said that Scarlett was extremely prudent in his man- 
agement of a cause. He did not attempt to carry the feel- 
ings of the jury by storm before a torrent of eloquence as 
Brougham and some of his other contemporaries did. He 
confined himself closely to the facts of the case in every 
instance. He admitted some when they would n't hurt his 
case much, forgot to mention others that would, and ex- 
plained those which were against him which he could not 
afford to pass in silence. 

Scarlett's method of conducting his cases is well stated 
by Talfourd, himself an able advocate and an elegant writer : 

" Mr. Scarlett, the present leader of the Court of King's 
Bench, has less brilliancy than his predecessor, (Erskine), but 



256 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



is not perhaps essentially inferior to him in the management 
of causes. He studiously disclaims imagination ; he rarely 
addresses the passions ; but he now and then gives indica- 
tions which prove that he has disciplined a mind of con- 
siderable elegance and strength to Nisi Pruis uses. In the 
fine tact of which we have already spoken — the intuitive 
power of common sense sharpened within a peculiar circle — 
he has no superior, and perhaps no equal. He never betrays 
anxiety in the crisis of a cause, but instantly decides among 
complicated difficulties, and is almost always right. He can 
bridge over a non-suit with insignificant facts, and tread 
upon the gulf steadily but warily to its end. What Johnson 
said of Burke's manner of treating a subject is true of his 
management of a cause, ' he winds himself into it like a great 
serpent.' He does not take a single view of it, nor desert it 
when it begins to fail, but throws himself into all its wind- 
ings, and struggles in it while it has life. There is a lucid 
arrangement and sometimes a light view of pleasantry and 
feeling in his opening speeches ; but his greatest visible 
triumph is in his replies. These do not consist of a mere 
series of ingenious remarks on conflicting evidence ; still less 
of a tiresome examination of the testimony of each witness 
singly ; but are as finely arranged on the instant, and thrown 
into as noble and decisive masses, as if they had been pre- 
pared in the study. By a vigorous grasp of thought, he 
forms a plan and an outline, which he first distinctly marks, 
and then proceeds to. fill up with masterly touches. When 
a case has been spread over half a day, and apparently 
shattered by the speech and witnesses of his adversary, he 
will gather it up, condense, concentrate, and render it con- 
clusive. He imparts a weight and solidity to all that he 
touches. Vague suspicions become certainties, as he ex- 
hibits them ; and circumstances light, valueless, and uncon- 
nected till then, are united together, and come down in 
wedges which drive conviction into the mind. . . . 
Scarlett, in the debate on the motion relative to the Chan- 
cellor's attack on Mr. Abercrombie, showed that he has felt 
it necessary to bend his mind considerably to the routine of 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 2$ J 



his practice. He was then surprised into his own original 
nature ; and forgetting the measured compass of his long- 
adopted voice and manner, spoke out in a broad northern 
dialect, and told daring truths which astonished the house. 
It is not thus, however, that he wins verdicts and compels 
the court to grant ' rules to show cause ! ' 

Notwithstanding Scarlett's usual mildness, when the oc- 
casion warranted, he could be extremely severe in his 
language, and he was once sued for slander. He called the 
plaintiff (the name of the case is Hodgson v. Scarlett, I 
B. and A, 232), ' a fraudulent and wicked attorney.' The 
court decided that a lawyer is not liable for words spoken in 
the argument of a cause, if they are pertinent to the issues 
involved. 

Some of Scarlett's critics insist that he was haughty, super- 
cillious, and arrogant to his inferiors, and that he was selfish, 
and unpatriotic. The writer is of the opinion that none 
of these charges are true ; on the contrary, while at the 
bar he was deservedly popular with all its members with 
very few exceptions, and he was always extremely desirous 
to aid in the enactment of laws which he deemed beneficial 
to his country. He did everything in his power to assist 
Sir Samuel Romilly and Sir James Mackintosh to mitigate 
the severities of the English criminal law. It is true he was 
quiet and unostentatious in his efforts to reform abuses ; 
others often obtained credit which was due him. Various 
conjectures have been made as to the cause of Sir James 
Scarlett's success at the bar, and many of them are very 
plausible, but the cause of his success is better stated by 
himself than by any of his critics. He says in his Auto- 
biography : " From these remarks it will appear that my 
success did not in the least depend on those tirades of 
declamation which make the reputation of a speaker. Nor 
in the most considerable and difficult cases in which I have 
carried the verdict, can any one who reads the printed 
speech either take any interest in it or even understand it 
without reading over and understanding the whole of the 
evidence. I never made a speech with a view to my own 



258 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



reputation, nor for any other object but to serve my 
client. The general audience, therefore, which crowded 
to hear popular speakers took little interest in my per- 
formances. But the judge and the jury, on the contrary, 
gave me their profound attention, and I believe I may say 
that no advocate in my time possessed a greater influence 
with them. Upon this subject, perhaps, I may be excused 
for relating an anecdote which is an illustration of it. On 
the Northern Circuit at certain periods there used to be a 
grand supper, at which all the members were assembled, 
and the expenses of which were paid by fines and congratu- 
lations that resulted in contributions to which the principal 
leaders were subject. These were introduced, in general, in 
a ceremonious speech by one of the body who bore the 
office of Attorney-General of the Circuit. Upon the occa- 
sion to which I allude, the present Lord Chief-Justice Tindal 
held that office. I was leader of the Circuit both in rank 
and business. He introduced my name for the purpose of 
a congratulation, by stating that his friend Mr. Scarlett had 
for many years been employing his genius in the invention 
of a machine which he had brought to perfection. The 
operation, the whole Circuit were in the habit of witnessing, 
with astonishment at his success. He, the Attorney-Gen- 
eral, had at length discovered the secret, which Avas no other 
than a machine which he dexterously contrived to keep out 
of sight, but by virtue of which he produced a surprising 
effect on the head of the judge. 'You have all noticed, 
gentlemen, that when my learned friend addresses the court 
he produces on the judge's head a motion angular to the 
horizon, like this/ he then made a movement of his head 
which signified a nod of approbation. When he had car- 
ried his motion by a unanimous vote of congratulation, he 
proceeded to another leader of the Circuit, a gentleman of 
more popular and much higher reputation as a speaker than 
myself. He said: 'This gentleman, as you 'all know, has 
for years been devoting his illustrious talents to surpass Mr. 
Scarlett. This he endeavours to accomplish by various 
means, and amongst others by imitating his example in 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 2$g 



the invention of a machine to operate on the head of the 
judge. In this he has at length, after much labour and 
study, succeeded. But you have observed that the motion 
he produces is of a different character. It is parallel to the 
horizon, in this fashion,' he then moved his head in a man- 
ner denoting dissent. The contrast and the joke occasioned 
much laughter, in which the gentleman last alluded to most 
heartily joined, his good-nature being not less remarkable 
than his talents. 

" I avoided every topic that I observed made an unfavour- 
able impression upon them, and when I discovered the 
strings that vibrated in their bosoms, I often by a single 
touch on the true card, in the course of my address or some- 
times in an incidental remark on the evidence as it was given, 
saw that I had carried the verdict. I recollect that early 
in my career I was junior counsel for the sitting member 
upon an election petition. The case was one of very great 
interest from many exaggerated and false accounts that had 
been published before the meeting of parliament. The 
petitioner was a strong supporter of ministers, and the great 
majority of the committee was formed of persons actually 
in office, or of his own partisans. I soon perceived from the 
petitioner's evidence and the manner in which it was re- 
ceived, that to retain the seat was hopeless, and that even to 
avoid seating the petitioner was a task of considerable diffi- 
culty. My leader was a learned sergeant, who opened his 
case for the sitting member something too high. The 
evidence on both sides, however, satisfied me that the 
true conclusion was to make it a void election, but, that to 
lead the committee to that conclusion required very close 
and exact reasoning on the evidence. I determined to try 
my powers. It was the first election committee on which I 
was concerned. I began my address by stating that I 
should add nothing to the arguments of my leader in sup- 
port of the seat, because I felt that if he had not satisfied 
them upon that point, it would be vain for me to attempt it. 
I should therefore confine myself strictly to the question 
whether the petitioner had established a right to the seat, 



260 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



or whether it was a void election, and though I did not dis- 
guise to myself the difficulties that lay in my way even upon 
that question, I entertained a strong hope that if they 
would honour me with their attention whilst I brought 
before them such parts of the evidence on both sides as ap- 
peared to me material, it would be in my power to convince 
them that they ought to take the same view of the case 
which induced me to entertain that hope; the more espe- 
cially as I did not doubt that much of the prejudice that had 
been excited, and which gave so strong an interest in the 
case, had already been dispelled by the evidence. 

" Confining their attention to a single point, I omitted all 
facts that might be doubted, selected only those which 
could not be disputed, and made my remarks as concisely 
and as perspicuously as I was able to do. In the course of 
the first half hour I found that the majority of the com- 
mittee were listening to me with the most profound attention, 
which was preserved to the end of a speech of two hours and 
a half, much the shortest that had been delivered. The re- 
sult was that the committee came to the conclusion I had 
desired, namely, that the election was void, by a small 
majority, in which I considered it a great enhancement of 
my victory to find the nominee of the petitioner. This 
nominee was no other than Mr. Bond the king's counsel 
and at that time judge advocate. A friend of mine who 
took an interest in my success, asked this gentleman how 
Scarlett had acquitted himself. He replied, ' he made a very 
masterly dissection of the evidence, and certainly convinced 
me.' There was the whole secret, to make a masterly dis- 
section of evidence when the cause depended on a correct judg- 
ment of the facts." 

Scarlett obtained a seat in the House of Commons in 1818, 
but his parliamentary career did not altogether satisfy his 
friends. In the year 1822 he was returned for the University 
of Cambridge, and subsequently represented Maldon and 
Cockermouth; and after the Reform Bill, he was member 
for the city of Norwich. 

In 1827 he was made attorney-general and was knighted. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 26 1 



On December 24, 1834, Scarlett was made Chief Baron 
of the Court of Exchequer, and in the following month he 
was elevated to the House of Peers by the title of Lord 
Abinger, of Abinger, in Surrey, an estate which he had pur- 
chased. Scarlett did not distinguish himself while on the 
bench. It is conceded, however, that he was a lover of 
learning and of learned men, a patron of art and artists, and 
a man of liberal thoughts and acquirements. 

A very high compliment was paid Sir James Scarlett by 
Sir James Coleridge, who, while speaking of his legal attain- 
ments, said, in the year 1859, that his place at the bar, 
twenty-five years after his leaving it, was yet unfilled. 
Scarlett was struck with a fit of paralysis while attending 
the Norfolk Circuit as a judge in 1844, an d died soon there- 
after at the age of seventy-five years. 

Bright. — John Bright was born November 16, 181 1, at 
Greenbank, Rochdale, England. He was placed in his 
father's counting-house after an ordinary school-training. 
During the discussion of the Reform Bill of 1831-32, he 
distinguished himself. He was also an ardent and elo- 
quent supporter, along with Richard Cobden, of the Anti- 
Corn Law League. This body was dissolved at Manchester 
in 1846, after the legislature established free trade. 

Mr. Bright entered parliament in the year 1843. He soon 
became one of the most popular speakers in the house. 
One writer says of his published speeches, " We doubt if our 
language possesses a record of any speeches really spoken, 
which are superior to them." The following account has been 
given of his oratory. " During three years Mr. Bright has been 
an involuntary absentee from parliamentary life. ' I shall not 
know the House of Commons without Sir Robert Peel,' said 
Macaulay, when his election for Edinburgh restored him to 
his old place there. The Reformed House of Commons has 
scarcely been itself without Mr. Bright. His accustomed 
seat below the gangway has lacked him, and his absence 
was even less conspicuous when his place was empty than 
when it was filled by some veteran Leaguer, or some pre- 
ferred home ruler from the upper benches. The portly 



262 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



figure and the lion-like head caught the glance of all 
strangers ; and ' Bright ' was pointed out with pride by the 
habitues or the attendants of the place. The time is probably 
approaching when he will be seen there again ; when visitors 
will comment on the sharp decision with which the member 
for Birmingham accompanied his talk to his neighbour; and 
watch for the quick, nervous glance towards the chair, and 
the slight movement which seldom failed to catch at once 
the eye of the Speaker, and to arrest the attention of the 
House, as he rose to take part in the debate. Whatever 
differences of opinion might exist in the House of Commons 
with respect to Mr. Bright as a politician, there never was 
any question as to his consummate ability as an orator. 
The emptiest house — if perchance he rose in an empty house, 
which he was seldom prone to do — speedily filled when he 
was known to be on his legs. Beginning in low and 
measured tones, with a sort of conversational hesitation 
in the opening sentences, he speedily rose to animation. 
The first condition of his success was this : that business 
was the backbone of his speeches. They were always ani- 
mated by a purpose which was clear to himself, and which 
he never failed to make clear to his hearers. No one could 
fail to know what he was driving at. 

" Though essentially a plain speaker, both in the literary 
and moral meaning of the phrase, there can be no greater 
mistake than that he is (if one may still speak in the present 
tense) a rude or unpolished one. In one sense, he is the 
most cultivated speaker in the House of Commons, inas- 
much as he has most elaborately and successfully trained 
his natural gifts of eloquence. A presence which fills the 
eye, a voice which at once takes the ear, and a slow and de- 
liberate utterance which seems to choose the best word, and to 
watch its effect in order that he may so choose and place the 
next as to heighten, or, if need be, to soften and qualify the 
impression of the first, compel attention and interest. Mr. 
Bright's power of convincing does not lie so much in strict 
logic — he does not often affect the forms of logic, though his 
speeches never want the substance of it — as in the submis- 



ORA TOR V IN ENGLAND. 263 



sion of the essential elements of a question to sagacious 
common sense and right feeling. Nothing can be better 
fitted than his words to his thought. The best answer to 
the imputation that he is un-English in character might, per- 
haps, be found in his language, which is more thoroughly 
and racily English than that of any speaker in either House. 
It combines in happy blending, alike the simple and dignified 
elements of our tongue. Mr. Bright, if he has not as much 
talent as Mr. Disraeli, has a great deal more humor ; he has 
as much earnestness as Mr. Gladstone, with more self-posses- 
sion ; and he has a simplicity of pathos, and an occasional 
grandeur, scorn, and indignation, which belong to neither. 
No orator has contributed more to the public stock — more 
images and phrases that will live — than Mr. Bright. Mr. 
Disraeli as the mountebank, with a pill for the earthquake, 
and Mr. Lowe and Mr. Horsman as the Scotch terrier party 
of which no one could tell the head from the tail, belong 
now to history as completely as the Adullamites and the 
fancy franchises to our political vocabulary. Few things 
finer have ever been uttered by any orator than Mr. Bright's 
appeal to the rival leaders to lay aside their animosities in 
order to seek a remedy for the wrongs of Ireland, than the 
passage in which he described the angel of death visiting 
the homes to be desolated by the Crimean war, or than the 
moral dignity of the sentences in which he vindicated his 
own career at Birmingham." 

Although there is a great diversity of opinion as to Mr. 
Bright's rank as a statesman, posterity will unhesitatingly 
say that he was one of the greatest orators of his time. 
Those who have heard him speak most frequently, and those 
most capable of passing judgment upon his oratory, are 
loudest in their praise of it. Mr. Bright, in one of his 
speeches at Birmingham, described himself as having, dur- 
ing the quarter of a century over which his public life then 
extended, endured measureless insult, and passed through 
hurricanes of abuse. 

While Mr. Bright was alive, the following graphic and able 
account of his manner of speaking was written by Mr. T. W. 



264 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Reid : " His manner, when speaking, is quiet and subdued, 
but it is the apparent subjugation which a bar of iron under- 
goes when it passes from the red-hot stage to the condition 
of white-heat. The red-hot bar splutters and sends forth 
sparks, and is, on the whole, the more imposing to the pass- 
ing glance. But there are more heat and power in the quiet- 
looking bar that steadfastly burns, content, without calling 
attention to the process, by occasionally spluttering forth an 
ineffectual shower of sparks. In the course of a speech Mr. 
Bright generally manages to say something damaging to his 
opponents and helpful to the cause he advocates. But when 
he sits down, there is invariably a feeling amongst his audi- 
ence that he has by no means exhausted himself, but could, 
if he pleased, have said a great deal more that would have 
been equally effectual. To this end his quiet, self-possessed 
manner greatly tends. He has himself well in hand through- 
out his orations, and therefore maintains his hold upon his 
audience. His gestures are of the fewest ; but unlike Mr. 
Disraeli's, they always seem appropriate and natural. A 
simple wave of the right hand, and the sentence is empha- 
sized. Nature has gifted him with a fine presence, and a 
voice the like of which has but rarely rung through the 
rafters of St. Stephen's. * Like a bell ' is the illustration 
usually employed in the endeavour to convey by words an 
impression of its music. But I think it were better to say 
' like a peal of bells,' for a single one. could not produce the 
varied tones in which Mr. Bright suits his expressions to his 
theme. On the whole, the dominant note is one of pathos. 
Possibly because nearly all Mr. Bright's great speeches have 
been made when he has been pleading the cause of the op- 
pressed, or denouncing a threatened wrong, a tone of melan- 
choly can be heard running through all. And for the 
expression of pathos, there are marvelously touching tones 
in his voice, tones which carry right to the listener's heart 
the tender thoughts that come glowing from the speaker's 
and are clad in simple words as they pass his tongue. 

" We have seen him thrill to tears, or rouse to shouts of 
applause the like of which we never heard before, a rough 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 265 



Lancashire audience of eight or nine thousand persons, 
packed within one of the great mills at Rochdale ; and in 
the House of Commons we have heard him speak for an 
hour at a stretch, whilst every man in the building listened 
with breathless attention, and the cheers that broke out at 
the end of every sentence came almost as much from the one 
side of the House as from the other. Nay, we have watched 
the faces of the men to whom is committed the government 
of the British Empire, and of the ' strangers ' permitted to 
join with them, strangers including princes of the blood, 
peers of long descent, the ministers of foreign countries, and 
the leaders of the Church ; we have watched them, as slowly, 
word by word, he was rolling forth the magnificent perora- 
tion of one of his great speeches, and we have seen upon 
their countenances such a rapt, and almost awe-stricken ex- 
pression, as — to return to the simile we mentioned at the 
beginning of this sketch— one might have expected to see 
on the faces of a Hebrew congregation before whom an 
Isaiah was delivering himself of his heaven-born visions. 

" We cannot resist the temptation of transcribing this one 
■ vision ' of the member for Birmingham, in 1862, on the sub- 
ject of the American war, and the delivery of which will 
ever dwell, in the memories of those who heard it uttered, 
as one of the most wonderful incidents in their lives. * The 
leaders of this revolt,' said he, after speaking nearly two 
hours with regard to the war, ' propose this monstrous thing 
— that, over a territory forty times as large as England the 
blight of slavery shall be forever perpetuated. I cannot 
believe, for my part, that such a fate will befall that fair 
land, stricken though it now is with the ravages of war. I 
cannot believe that civilisation, in its journey with the sun, 
will sink into endless night, in order to gratify the ambition 
of the leaders of this revolt, who seek to 

" Wade through slaughter to a throne, 
And shut the gates of mercy to mankind." 

" ' I have another and a far brighter vision before my gaze. 
It may be but a vision, but I will cherish it. I see one vast 



266 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



confederation, stretching from the frozen North in unbroken 
line to the glowing South, and from the wild billows of the 
Atlantic, westward to the calmer waters of the Pacific main 
— and I see one people, and one language, and one law, and 
one faith, and over all that wide continent the home of free- 
dom, and a refuge for the oppressed of every race and of 
every clime.' 

" And yet, whilst the effect produced by Mr. Bright upon 
those who listen to him is wonderful, the first impression of 
those who hear him for the first time is one of disappoint- 
ment. When he begins to speak to any audience, he gen- 
erally opens his address in a low tone, pauses occasionally, 
as though to find a suitable word, and seems to have no 
idea whatever of rousing the enthusiasm of those who listen 
to him. Those who have taken with them pre-conceived 
notions of Mr. Bright, presenting him to their imaginations 
as a reckless demagogue, full of sound and fury, will hardly 
be able to recognise the great orator in the quiet and unim- 
passioned speaker who stands motionless before them, pour- 
ing forth a stream of noble Saxon words, the very simplicity 
and appropriateness of which rob the orator of a portion of 
the credit which is due to him. 

" But presently, while the stranger is wondering at the 
infatuation of those who have placed upon the brows of this 
man the crown of eloquence, he is himself drawn within the 
circle of his influence, and, forgetting his pre-conceived 
notions, his subsequent disappointment and his whole the- 
ory of the art of oratory, he listens enchanted to the man 
who can put the most difficult questions so plainly before 
his audience, and in whose hands the dryest subject becomes 
so interesting. 

" Then, when the speaker has drawn the whole of his 
hearers into sympathy with him, he begins to work on their 
emotions like a skilful player on the harp. And first he 
rouses the scorn of scorn in their hearts by a few simple 
words, which, when we read them in the morning, appear 
altogether innocent, but which, as he utters them, scathe the 
object of his wrath more terribly than the bitterest or most 



ORA TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 267 



violent invective. Perhaps in nothing has Mr. Bright so 
much power as in his use of sarcasm. The manner in which, 
by a mere inflection of his voice, he can express the intensest 
scorn, and so express it as to make his feelings more com- 
pletely known to his audience than if he spent an hour in 
trying to explain them, is simply marvellous. We remem- 
ber one or two instances in which the mere tone of his voice 
has conveyed an impression of his boundless contempt for 
his adversary which no language could have expressed half 
so well. 

" But almost directly after the audience has been stirred 
by the orator's sarcasm, he begins in the calmest and 
most deliberate manner to tell some story. Mr. Bright is a 
wonderful story-teller, and some of the best anecdotes and 
illustrations that have been given to us in modern times have 
come from him. The story of the old gentleman, for in- 
stance, who used to say that a ' hole wore longer than a 
patch,' is worthy of being placed beside the history of Dame 
Partington ; . . . and the Syrian monk, to whom ' tears 
were as natural as perspiration,' are good examples of the 
ready wit with which he supplies every argument he em- 
ploys with an appropriate illustration. 

" More notable examples of the same quality are to be 
found in that speech in which he christened the Adullamites, 
and added a new phrase — ' the Cave ' — to the vocabulary of 
party politics. The speech itself was a triumph of humour, 
nothing in it being more grotesquely irresistible than that 
never-to-be-forgotten of the ' party of two/ which bore so 
striking a resemblance to the young ladies' terrier, ' which 
was so covered with hair that you could not tell which was 
the head and which was the tail of it.' 

" Perhaps none of Mr. Bright's qualities does so much to 
render him popular, as a speaker, both in the House of 
Commons and in the provinces, as his humour. And one 
peculiarity of his humour is, that it always appears to be un- 
conscious. When he is telling one of his best stories, or 
uttering one of his best sayings, he hardly moves a muscle 
of his face, and seemingly takes no share in the merriment 
of his audience." 



268 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Mr. Bright rarely indulged in classical quotations, for the 
reason, probably, that he received his education at Quaker 
schools and colleges, where the classics were not taught. 
But his knowledge of English literature was very consider- 
able, and his quotations from the greatest authors were fre- 
quent and felicitous. 

When Mr. Bright desired to cover with ridicule the fac- 
tion of which Mr. Lowe was the head, he thought of the 
escape of David from Achish, King of Gath, and the 
people who subsequently gathered with him in the Cave 
of Adullam. 

On another occasion when speaking complainingly of the 
Conservatives, he said that if that party " had been in the 
wilderness, they would have complained of the Ten Com- 
mandments as a harassing piece of legislation." 

He called Mr. Disraeli the " mystery man of the min- 
istry." And he said of Sir Charles Adderly in a letter to a 
friend, " I hope he thought he was speaking the truth, but 
he is rather a dull man, and is liable to make blunders." Of 
another man, who boasted that his ancestors came over with 
the Conqueror, he said, " I never heard that they did any- 
thing else." 

Mr. Bright was unable to attend to his parliamentary 
duties for a short time on account of sickness ; a nobleman 
impudently remarked in public, that, by way of punishment 
for the use he had made of his talents, Providence had in- 
flicted upon Mr. Bright a disease of the brain. Mr. Bright 
said, when he resumed his duties : " It may be so, but in 
any case, it w r ill be some consolation to the friends and 
family of the noble lord to know that the disease is one 
which even Providence could not inflict upon him." 

One of the most striking passages to be found in any of 
Mr. Bright's speeches is the following one, taken from his 
speech against the prosecution of the Crimean war : 

" I do not suppose that your troops are to be beaten in 
actual conflict with the foe, or that they will be driven into 
the sea ; but I am certain that many homes in England in 
which there exists a fond hope that the distant one may 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 269 



return — many such homes may be rendered desolate when 
the next mail shall arrive. The angel of death has been 
abroad throughout the land ; you may almost hear the beat- 
ing of his wings. There is no one, as when the first-born 
was slain of old, to sprinkle with blood the lintel and the two 
side-posts of our doors, that he may spare and pass on ; he 
takes his victims from the castle of the noble, the mansion 
of the wealthy, and the cottage of the poor and lowly, and 
it is in behalf of all these classes that I make this solemn 
appeal. ... I would ask, I would entreat the noble lord 
(Palmerston) to take a course which, when he looks back 
upon his whole political career — whatever he may find 
therein to be pleased with, whatever to regret — cannot but 
be a source of gratification to him. By adopting that course 
he would have the satisfaction of reflecting that, having 
obtained the laudable object of his ambition — having 
become the foremost subject of the crown, the director of, 
it may be, the destinies of his country, and the presiding 
genius of her councils — he had achieved a still higher and 
nobler ambition ; that he had returned the sword to its 
scabbard — that at his words torrents of blood had ceased to 
flow — that he had restored tranquillity to Europe, and saved 
this country from the indescribable calamities of war." 

On November 3, 1868, Mr. Bright was presented with the 
freedom of the city of Edinburgh, and in 1869 he accepted 
office as president of the Board of Trade. He was appointed 
to the Chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster in August, 
1873, and held that post till the dissolution of the Liberal 
Government, February, 1874. Mr. Bright's name was also 
identified with a scheme for the reform of the electoral rep- 
resentation. 

Mr. Bright was robust of frame, broad-shouldered, broad- 
chested, and of graceful manners. He had a broad, full, 
decidedly Saxon face. His forehead was broad and high. 
His brows were dark and heavy. His eyes were a keen, 
tender blue, full of " sweet gravity, and wonderfully intellec- 
tual." They could flash fire, or melt into tears, and capti- 
vated all who came within the sphere of their influence. 



270 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" His mouth," says a writer, who gave a description of him 
before his death, " though large, is firm and indicative of the 
greatness of his heart, and has an expression of good 
humour. The lips have, in their fleshy and massive outline, 
abundant marks of habitual reflection and intellectual occu- 
pation. The streak of the unfaded rose still enlivens his 
cheeks. When animated during a speech his comely Saxon 
features brighten into unmistakable beauty, and when seen 
in the profile are even finer than when viewed from the 
front. The whole has an expression of fine intellectual dig- 
nity, candour, serenity, and lofty, gentlemanly repose." 

Mr. Bright was a philanthropist in the true sense of that 
term. He devoted the best years of his life to the study of 
the causes of human misery and degradation, and he hon- 
estly advocated such measures as he deemed best calculated 
to ameliorate the condition of the poor and oppressed. But, 
he at the same time, recognised the fact that property 
owners have rights which should be respected. As to the 
wisdom of the legislative remedies which he proposed for 
the cure of the diseases of the body politic, which he con- 
ceived to exist, there is a wide difference of opinion, but all 
agree that Mr. Bright was sincere in his convictions. 

Patriotism, and deep earnestness, were the chief features 
of Mr. Bright's strength as an orator, but his oratorical suc- 
cess was due not to one or two qualities, but to a combina- 
tion of qualities like the light and shade of a picture. His 
speeches had fervor, force, reason and passion, and touched 
the heart, conscience, and intellect, of his hearers. 

His memory was extraordinarily tenacious, and allowed 
nothing to escape which he had once given due considera- 
tion. His information upon subjects with which a statesman 
should be familiar is said to have been wide and accurate. 

Although, usually, his style was chaste and simple, yet 
when the subject permitted, his poetical diction imparted 
warmth and brilliancy to facts, which would have been dull 
if treated by a less skilful speaker. At times, however, his 
language was, to the objects of his attacks, distressingly 
plain. The following extract from a speech delivered in 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGLAND. 27 1 



1868 is an example in point. Mr. Bright said : " One of the 
candidates for the inferior position of minority member for 
Birmingham complained on a recent occasion that I had not 
read the speeches of his colleague in the candidature, and 
that I had not, in duty bound, undertaken to answer him. 
The fact is I am too busy in these days to dwell very much 
on works of fiction. The speeches of Mr. Lloyd are what I 
call dull fiction, and the speeches of his colleague, though 
not less fiction, are certainly of a more sparkling and 
sensational character." 

Soon after his death, which took place on the 7th day of 
March, 1889, the following tribute was paid to Mr. Bright, by 
his political associate and personal friend, Hon. W. E. Glad- 
stone : 

Mr. Gladstone, upon rising, was received with cheers. He 
said : 

" Mr. Bright has been, to a very remarkable degree, happy 
in the moment of his removal from among us. He lived to 
see the triumph of almost every g'-eat cause to which he 
specially devoted his heart and mind. He has established a 
special claim to the admiration of those from whom he dif- 
fered through his long political life by marked concurrence 
with them upon the prominent and dominant question of 
the hour. (' Hear ! hear ! ') While he has in that way 
opened the minds and hearts of those with whom he dif- 
fered to appreciation of his merits he has lost nothing by 
that concord with them on the particular subjects we so 
much represent. Though Mr. Bright came to be separated 
from the great bulk of the liberals on the Irish question, on 
no single occasion has there been any word of disparage- 
ment. I acknowledge that I have not, through my whole 
political life, fully embraced the character of Mr. Bright and 
the value of that character to the country. I say this be- 
cause it was at the particular epoch of the Crimean war that 
I came more to understand than before the position held by 
him and some of his friends and the hold they had laid upon 
the confidence of the people. I was one of those who did 
not agree with the particular views he took of the Crimean 



272 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



contest, but felt profoundly, and never ceased to feel what 
must have been the moral elevation of men, who, nurtured 
all their lives in the temple of popular approval, could at a 
moment's notice consent to part with the whole of that 
favour they enjoy, which opponents might think the very 
breath of their nostrils. ('Hear! hear!') They accepted 
undoubted unpopularity, for that war commanded the enor- 
mous approval of the people. It was at that time that, 
although we had known much of Mr. Bright, we learned 
more. We had known of his great mental gifts, his courage, 
his consistency, and his splendid eloquence. We had not 
known how high was the moral tone of those popular lead- 
ers, and what splendid examples they could set their con- 
temporaries. 

" Among other gifts Mr. Bright was delighted to be one 
of the chief guardians of the purity of the English tongue. 
(' Hear ! hear ! ') He knew how the character of a nation is 
associated with its language. He was enabled, as an Eng- 
lishman professedly attached to his country, the tongue of 
the people being to him almost an object of worship, to pre- 
serve the purity of the language of Shakespeare and Milton. 
(Cheers.) 

" Another circumstance of his career is better known to 
me than to any other person present. Everybody is aware 
that office had no attraction for him. But few can be aware 
what extra efforts were required to induce him to become a 
servant of the Crown. In the crisis of 1868, when the fate 
of the Irish Church hung in the balance, it was my duty to 
propose to Mr. Bright that he become a Minister. I never 
undertook so difficult a task. From 11 o'clock at night until 
1 o'clock in the morning we steadily debated the subject. It 
was only at the last moment that he found it possible to set 
aside the repugnance he felt at doing anything that might in 
the eyes of any one, even of the more ignorant class of his 
countrymen, appear to detract in the slightest degree from 
that lofty independence of character which I have men- 
tioned, and which never throughout his career was held in 
doubt. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 273 



" It was a happy lot to unite so many attractive qualities. 
If I had to dwell upon them alone I should present a daz- 
zling picture to the world. It was a happier lot to teach 
moral lessons by simplicity, consistency, unfailing courage, 
and constancy of life, thus presenting a combination of qual- 
ities that carried us to a higher atmosphere. (' Hear ! hear! ') 
His sympathies were not strong only, but active ; not sym- 
pathies awaiting calls to be made upon them, but sympathies 
of a man seeking objects upon which to bestow the inesti- 
mable advantages of eloquence and courage. In Ireland, when 
support of the Irish cause was rare ; in India, when support 
of the native cause was rarer still ; in America, at the time 
when Mr. Bright, foreseeing the ultimate issue of the great 
struggle of 1 861, stood as the representative of an exceed- 
ingly small portion of the educated community of the coun- 
try, although undoubtedly representing a large part of the 
national sentiment (' Hear ! hear ! ') ; in all these cases Mr. 
Bright went far outside the necessities of his calling. What- 
ever touched him as a man of the great Anglo-Saxon race, 
whatever touched him as a subject, obtained, unasked, his 
sincere, earnest, and enthusiastic aid. (' Hear ! hear ! ') All 
causes having his powerful advocacy made a distinct advance 
in the estimation of the world and distinct progress toward 
triumphant success. Thus it has come about that he is en- 
titled to a higher eulogy than is due to success. Of mere 
success, indeed, he was a conspicuous example. In intellect 
he might claim a most distinguished place. But his character 
lies deeper than intellect, deeper than eloquence, deeper 
than anything that can be described or that can be seen 
upon the surface. The supreme eulogy that is his due is 
that he elevated political life to the highest point — to a 
loftier standard than it had ever reached. He has bequeathed 
to his country a character that can not only be made a sub- 
ject for admiration and gratitude, but — and I do not ex- 
aggerate when I say it — that can become an object of 
reverential contemplation. In the encomiums that come 
from every quarter there is not a note of dissonance. I do 
not know of any statesman of my time who had the happi- 



274 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ness of receiving, on removal from this passing world, the 
honour of approval at once so enthusiastic, so universal, and 
so unbroken. (' Hear! hear ! ') Yet none could better dis- 
pense with the tributes of the moment, because the triumphs 
of his life were recorded in the advance of his country and 
of its people. His name is indelibly written in the annals of 
Time and on the hearts of the great and overspreading race 
to which he belonged, whose wide extension he rejoiced to 
see, and whose power and prominence he believed to be full 
of promise and glory for the best interests of mankind." 

Mr. Bright's death made a profound impression in all 
circles of society. He was respected and beloved by men 
of all parties. 

Disraeli. — Volumes have been, and many more will be, 
filled with criticisms upon the character and public life, of 
that remarkable statesman — Mr. Benjamin Disraeli. It is 
the author's purpose, however, to treat of him merely as 
a political orator. He was undoubtedly gifted with the 
highest oratorical talents. 

His writings and speeches added new treasures to English 
literature. They did something more than amuse. Many 
things that he said, posterity will not willingly let die. 

Mr. Disraeli was born in London, December 21, 1805. 
He was taught chiefly by private tutors. 

It was his original intention to study law, but after spend- 
ing three years in the office of an eminent solicitor in Lon- 
don, he decided to devote his life to politics and literature. 

When only twenty years of age, his novel, Vivian Grey, 
was published. It immediately brought him into notice, and 
won for him many flattering social attentions. Lady Bless- 
ington's description to Mr. Willis of Mr. Disraeli's first appear- 
ance in her drawing-room, is thus given by that author : 

" Disraeli, the elder, came here with his son the other 
night. It would have delighted you to see the old man's 
pride in him, and the son's respect for his father. Disraeli, 
the elder, lives in the country, about twenty miles from 
town ; seldom comes up to London, and leads a life of 
retired leisure, each day hoarding up and dispensing forth 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 275 



treasures of literature. He is courtly, yet urbane, and im- 
presses one at once with confidence in his goodness. In 
his manner, Disraeli, the younger, is quite the character of 
Vivian Grey, full of genius and eloquence, with extreme 
good nature and perfect frankness of character." 

After travelling in the East for a considerable length of 
time, young Disraeli gave his attention almost exclusively 
to politics for some years. 

Disraeli was an extremely courageous man, and when he 
got into a controversy with his political opponents, and strong 
language was applied to him, he usually clothed his replies 
in vigorous English. In 1835, while making a canvass for a 
seat in parliament, as a conservative, he publicly denounced 
the celebrated Daniel O'Connell as a " bloody traitor." To 
this O'Connell replied that Disraeli was a " lineal descendant 
of the blasphemous thief who died upon the cross." Mr. 
Disraeli, immediately, challenged Morgan O'Connell, but the 
challenge was not accepted, Disraeli was bound over to keep 
the peace, and the controversy ended. 

A few years later when he obtained a seat in parliament, 
he gave the following description of Sir Robert Peel's 
speeches : " They are dreary pages of interminable talk ; 
full of predictions falsified, pledges broken, calculations that 
had gone wrong, and budgets that had blown up. And 
this not relieved by a single original thought, a single gen- 
erous impulse, or a single happy expression." 

When Lord Beaconsfield made his first speech, in the 
House of Commons, it was met by opposition and ridicule, 
and at last drowned in uproar. Stopping in the middle of 
a sentence, he lifted his hand and said, in the full tones of a 
voice which rose above the tumult: 

" I have begun several times many things, and yet have 
often succeeded at last. I will sit down now, but the time 
will come when you shall hear me ! " ■ 

Afterward when speaking of this incident to his constitu- 
ents he said : 

" Was I to yield to this insulting derision like a child or a 
poltroon ? No. When I sat down I sent them my defiance. 



276 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



There are emergencies when it becomes necessary to show 
that a man will not be crushed. I trust I showed, under 
unparalleled interruption, the spirit of a man, and the gene- 
rosity of a combatant who does not soon lose his temper." 

At the death of Lord G. Bentinck he became the acknow- 
ledged leader of the Conservatives in the House of Com- 
mons. Under Lord Derby, he acted for a short period as 
Chancellor of the Exchequer. In 1868 he became First 
Lord of the Treasury, which position he held also for a few 
months. In 1874, Disraeli became Prime Minister at the 
head of the Conservative Government, for the first time. 

Disraeli's face was inscrutable. At critical moments hun- 
dreds of keen eyes were turned towards that face to read, if 
possible, something of his thoughts, but never once, not 
even in the most exciting crisis of personal or political con- 
flict, did the face unwittingly relax, so that friend or foe 
could read aught there. His face was truly remarkable, 
sphinx-like, and unfathomable. His courage in the parlia- 
mentary contests in which he was engaged was of the high- 
est order. He was a most excellent leader. He had perfect 
command of his temper, and he knew how to encourage his 
followers and to arouse them to enthusiasm. 

As an orator Mr. Disraeli was, in some respects, superior 
to any of his contemporaries. His self-possession, which 
nothing could disturb ; his terse, epigrammatic replies, when 
interrupted by questions ; his keen, mercilessly sarcastic 
attacks upon his assailants when provoked ; his wonderful 
command of language, and fluency of speech rendered him 
one of the most effective parliamentary orators of any age 
or nation. 

It has been said by some of his critics that the weakest 
points in his oratory were a lack of earnestness and sincere 
conviction, but judging from the fairest and most impartial 
accounts which have been given of his speeches the accusa- 
tion is not well-founded, when applied to matter, or manner. 

His speeches were instructive, convincing, and persuasive, 
and had a prodigious effect upon the people of England as 
long as he remained in public life. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 2JJ 



Mr. Disraeli, when the occasion demanded it, was not 
only a powerful, and logical speaker, but exceedingly 
pathetic, as well. When President Lincoln was so foully 
assassinated, the speech of Mr. Disraeli, of all those made, 
the world over, was the most pathetic and touching, by far, 
and brought tears to the eyes of thousands. 

The following remarks upon Mr. Disraeli's oratory by a 
writer in the Gentleman s Magazine are interesting : 

" When he rises to speak he generally rests his hand for a 
moment upon the table, but it is only for a moment, for he 
invariably endeavors to gain the ear of his audience by mak- 
ing a point, at the outset, and the attitude which he finds 
most conducive to the happy delivery of points is to stand 
balancing himself upon his feet with his hand in his coat- 
tail pockets. In this position, with his head hung down as 
if he were mentally debating how best to express a thought 
that had just occurred to his mind, Mr. Disraeli slowly 
utters the polished and poisoned sentence over which he 
has spent laborious hours in the closet. 

" But the merest tyro in the House knows a moment be- 
forehand when Mr. Disraeli is approaching what he regards 
as a convenient place in his speech for dropping in the 
phrase-gem he pretends to have just found in an odd corner 
of his mind. They see him leading up to it ; they note the 
disappearance of his hands in the direction of the coat-tail 
pockets, sometimes in search of the pocket-handkerchief, 
which is brought out and shaken with a light and careless air, 
but most often to extend the coat-tails, whilst with body 
gently rocked to and fro, and an affected hesitancy of speech, 
the speaker produces his bon mot. For the style of repartee 
in which Mr. Disraeli indulges — which may be described 
generally as a sort of solemn chaffing, varied by strokes of 
polished sarcasm — this manner is admirable, in proportion 
as it has been seldom observed. But it is monotonous to a 
degree perhaps exceeded only by that of Mr. Cardwell, who, 
during his last speech on the Army Estimates, was timed 
with a watch, and found to go through the following series 
of oratorical performances with the regularity of a pendu- 



278 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



lum, preserving throughout an hour the exact time allotted 
at the outset to each manoeuvre : First, he advanced to the 
table and rested upon it, leaning his left arm upon the edge ; 
secondly, he stood bolt upright and retired half a pace from 
the table, letting his arms hang stiffly by his side ; thirdly, 
he put both hands out and arranged the papers before him ; 
fourthly, he retired a full pace, folded his hands behind him 
under his coat-tails, and again stood bolt upright, looking 
like an undertaker who had called for orders. This latter 
was his favourite position, and he remained in it for the 
longest period. But when the time came to forsake it, he 
advanced, leaned his arm upon the table, and again went 
through the full round of graceful action. Mr. Disraeli is 
not as this, etc." This account, and many others of a similar 
character, have done Mr. Disraeli great injustice, and were 
evidently penned by his political enemies, who hoped to 
lessen his influence by attacking him with the keen weapon 
of satire. But he was more than a match for any of his 
assailants when he chose to answer their attacks. It is 
greatly to be regretted that public men should be subjected 
to such unfair criticisms. Critics, though hostile, should 
have too much self-respect to lie outright in order to bring 
unmerited reproach and public contempt upon the object 
of their envenomed assaults ; but the discriminating few, 
the wisest and best men, always loathe and detest such 
malignancy. Nothing has impaired, to a greater extent, the 
influence of the press than the publication of scurrilous ar- 
ticles which secretly aim to compass the ruin or injury of 
those who have incurred the enmity of the writers. 

Few statesmen of ancient or modern times have been 
more witty and humourous than Mr. Disraeli was when he 
chose to be. In a speech to the conservatives at Glasgow, 
November, 1873, alluding to the Abyssinian war he said : 
" I should myself from my own individual experience be 
most careful not to follow the example which one of the 
most distinguished members of the present Administration 
pursued with respect to us when we had to encounter the 
Abyssinian difficulty. When I introduced the necessity of 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 279 



interference in order to escape from difficulties which we 
had inherited and not made, Mr. Lowe rose in parliament 
and violently attacked the Government of the day for the 
absurdity, the folly, the extreme imprudence of attempting 
any interference in the affairs of Abyssinia. . . . He 
described the horrors of the country, and the terrors of the 
clime. He said there was no possibility by which any suc- 
cess could be obtained, and the people of England must 
prepare themselves for the most horrible catastrophe. He 
described not only the fatal influence of the climate, but, I 
remember, he described one pink fly alone which he said would 
eat up the whole British army. He was as vituperative as 
the insects of Abyssinia." 

When Lords Beaconsfield and Salisbury returned from 
Berlin in 1878, a dinner in their honour was given at 
Knightsbridge by members of the conservative party, more 
than five hundred being present. On this occasion, Lord 
Beaconsfleld, in the course of his speech, referred as follows 
to some criticisms of Mr. Gladstone : " I was astonished to 
learn that the Convention of Constantinople has been de- 
scribed as ' an insane convention.' That is a strong epithet, 
but I do not pretend to be as competent a judge of insanity 
as the right honourable gentleman who used it. I will not 
say to the right honourable gentleman what I had occasion 
to say in the House of Lords this year, Naviget Auticyram ; 
but I would put this issue to an intelligent English jury — 
which do you believe most likely to enter into an insane 
convention, a body of English gentlemen, honoured by the 
favour of their sovereign and the confidence of their fellow 
subjects, managing your affairs for five years, I hope with 
prudence and not altogether without success, or a sophistical 
rhetorician, inebriated with the exuberance of his own ver- 
bosity, and gifted with an egotistical imagination, that can 
at all times command an interminable and inconsistent series 
of arguments to malign his opponents and to glorify himself." 

Young men should learn from the life of Lord Beacons- 
field that " Never despair " is a good motto, and that diffi- 
culties " ought to be no more than the threads of gossamer, 



280 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



sparkling with dew-drops, which we break away by thousands 
as we stride through the morning fields." 

Even from boyhood Lord Beaconsfield determined, if 
possible, to become Prime Minister of England. 

He loved to encourage young men, and at Manchester, 
speaking to youths, he said : 

" I give to them that counsel which I have ever given to 
youth. I tell them to aspire. I believe that the youth who 
does not look up, will look down ; and that the spirit which 
does not dare to soar, is destined perhaps, to grovel." 

He did not urge them, however, to a selfish ambition. 
He said : " You will be called to great duties. Remember 
what has been done for you. Remember that when the in- 
heritance devolves upon you, you are not only to enjoy, but 
to improve. You will one day succeed to the high places of 
this great community. Recollect those who lighted the way 
for you ; and when you have wealth, when you have au- 
thority, when you have power, let it not be said that you 
were deficient in public virtue or public spirit. When the 
torch is delivered to you, do you also light the path of 
human progress to educated man." 

Lord Beaconsfield delivered an address to the members of 
the Manchester Athenaeum on the 23d of October, 1844. 
In that address occurs the following beautiful and striking 
passage upon knowledge : " It is knowledge that equalises 
the social condition of man — that gives to all, however dif- 
ferent their political position, passions which are in common, 
and enjoyments which are universal. Knowledge is like the 
mystic ladder in the patriarch's dream. Its base rests on the 
primeval earth, its crest is lost in the shadowy splendour of 
the empyrean ; while the great authors, who, for traditionary 
ages have held the chain of science and philosophy, of 
poesy and erudition, are the angels ascending and descend- 
ing the sacred scale, and maintaining as it were, the com- 
munication between man and heaven. This feeling is so 
universal that there is no combination of society in any age 
in which it has not developed itself. It may, indeed, be 
partly restrained under despotic governments, under pecu- 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 28 1 



liar systems of retarded civilisation ; but it is a consequence 
as incidental to the spirit and the genius of the Christian 
civilisation of Europe, as that the day shall follow night and 
the stars should shine according to their laws and order." 

The author believes that the passage above quoted, is 
alone sufficient proof of the great Disraeli's goodness of 
heart, and of his ardent love of all mankind, and his earnest 
wish that their condition should be improved socially, men- 
tally, morally, and materially. Disraeli's ambition was a 
noble one. He did not covet fame or fortune. He was 
always indifferent to money, and neglectful of his pecuniary 
interests. He played a great part in the history of his coun- 
try, and he played it well. When we think of it, his career 
was wonderful. His rise from comparative poverty and 
obscurity to the greatest height to which a subject can 
attain in England, and the qualities he displayed in pros- 
perity and adversity, — these are things which must command 
the sympathy and admiration of the wise and the good of all 
future ages. His career was romantic, but it is a romance that 
teaches many noble and useful lessons, and that will have 
power to fire many a young soul with the highest ambition. 

Gladstone. — It is not the author's purpose to treat of Mr. 
Gladstone as a man of letters, nor as a statesman. He has 
been more highly praised, and more severely censured, than 
any statesman of this century. His friends call him the 
grand old man, and his enemies the grand old woman. By 
many of his admirers, his political sagacity is thought to be 
phenomenal, and he is considered by them the prince of 
modern statesmen. He is undoubtedly one of the ablest 
men of modern times. 

Mr. Gladstone is an earnest Christian, while recognising 
the prophetic element in Homer, and enraptured by his ex- 
quisite creations, and no one has described them with a 
more vivid and brightly tinctured pencil, he yet bows before 
the higher poetic genius of Isaiah, and sees in the marvellous 
ideals of Christian poets, from Dante to Tennyson, a more 
perfect bloom of the human mind, and character. 

The Right Hon. William Ewart Gladstone was born at 



282 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Liverpool, on the 29th of December, 1809. He is the fourth 
son of the late Sir John Gladstone, a Liverpool merchant. 
He studied at Eton and Christ Church, Oxford, and he 
entered the House of Commons as member for Newark in 
the Conservative interest. Sir Robert Peel, in 1834, ap- 
pointed him Under-Secretary for the Colonies. In the revision 
of the British tariff, in 1842, his defence of the policy of the 
government, and his complete mastery of its details led to 
its being passed almost without alteration in both Houses. 
In 185 1 he left the Conservatives, and has ever since ap- 
peared on the Liberal side. 

He has held office as follows : Vice-President of the Board 
of Trade, and Master of the Mint, from September, 1841, to 
May, 1843 I President of the Board of Trade, from May, 
1843, to February, 1845 \ Secretary of State for the Colonies, 
1846 ; appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer, in Lord Aber- 
deen's ministry, 28th December, 1852 ; resigned along with 
the Aberdeen ministry, 30th January, 1855 ; held the same 
office under Lord Palmerston 5th February, resigned 21st 
February, 1855 ; held office as Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
from 18th June, 1859, to 5 tn J u ty? !866; represented South 
Lancashire in parliament from, 1865 to 1868 ; was elected 
for Greenwich in November, 1868, and was elected First 
Lord of the Treasury on 8th December, of the same year. 
On March 1, 1869, he introduced his measure for the dis- 
establishment of the Irish Church, unfolding in a speech, 
which even Disraeli praised, the details of his comprehensive 
scheme. The passage of the bill which was carried through 
the House in less than five months, mainly by the energy of 
Mr. Gladstone, has been pronounced one of the most im- 
portant legislative achievements of modern times. 

During his leadership of the Liberal party other measures 
of great importance were passed, the Elementary Education 
Act, the abolition of purchase in the army, the removal of 
the University tests, and the Trades-Union bill. 

Mr. Gladstone resigned the leadership of his party after 
forty-two years of public life, but in 1879, ne accepted the in- 
vitation of the Liberal electors of Mid-Lothian, to stand as 



OR A TOR Y IN ENGL A ND. 283 



their candidate, though the district was a stronghold of 
Conservatism and his opponent the son of the Duke of 
Buccleugh. His aggressive campaign astonished the United 
Kingdom ; the result of the elections of 1880 proved that 
his resistless eloquence had reached the popular heart. The 
Liberal majority in the new parliament was 1 14, and the 
great commoner, to whom the revolution was due, was justly 
called to be prime minister. 

In 1883 Gladstone had given up the office of Chancellor 
of the Exchequer, but the government in every crisis was 
obliged to depend on his oratory. In 1886 Mr. Gladstone 
became prime minister a third time, and his course since 
that time is familiar to the world. 

In his life of Gladstone, an interesting work, which every 
person should read, Mr. G. R. Emerson gives the follow- 
ing sketch of his career at Eton and Oxford : " Mr. John 
Gladstone, we may be tolerably certain, was not slow to 
discover the early promise of ability given by his fourth 
son, who, in September, 182 1, as yet wanting three months 
of completing his twelfth year, was sent to Eton. He was 
a robust and active, as well as a clever boy, and made light 
of many of the hardships which have made public school 
life very unpleasant to weak or timid lads. Gladstone soon 
showed that he was well able to take his own part ; and 
when it was found that he was not only one of the most 
active and successful in all school sports, but also one of the 
very cleverest of the boys, his popularity was assured. 

" He remained about six years at Eton, and there formed 
some lasting friendships. One of his school-fellows, of the 
same age as himself, was George Augustus Selwyn, after- 
wards the famous missionary bishop of New Zealand, and 
who died Bishop of Lichfield. Francis Hastings Doyle, 
who in after life became Professor of Poetry at Oxford, was 
also at school at the time ; and another of the Eton boys of 
Gladstone's time, but two years younger than he, was the 
modern Lycidas, Arthur Henry Hallam, whose friendship 
with Tennyson and early death produced one of the noblest 
poems of our time, In Memoriam. Gladstone soon distin- 



284 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



guished himself in the school by his success in Latin versifi- 
cation ; and it was not likely that he would remain unaffected 
by the literary traditions of the school. George Canning — 
in the estimation of all the Gladstone family a very Admira- 
ble Crichton — had, when he was an Eton boy, contributed 
to a school magazine ; so had John Hookham Frere — the 
author of the Whistlecraft Papers (which suggested to Byron 
the style of Beppo and Don Juan), and father of Sir Bartle 
Frere — and Winthrop Mackworth Praed. The Etonian, to 
which the latter contributed, was published at Windsor by 
Charles Knight, at that time a bookseller and printer in the 
royal town ; and so much talent was brought to light in its 
pages, that it was made the basis of another magazine, to 
which Macaulay and others who did not belong to Eton con- 
tributed. In the last year of Gladstone's residence at the 
school, he was one of the projectors of the Eton Miscellany, 
and certainly the most prolific contributor, young Selwyn 
ranking next. Thirteen papers from the pen of William 
Ewart Gladstone appeared in the first volume ; among them 
a poem in well balanced heroic couplets, celebrating the 
achievements of Richard Cceur de Lion, and Gnatimozin s 
Death Song, for the suggestion of which he was probably in- 
debted to his mother's relative, Principal Robertson, in his 
account of the conquest of Mexico by Cortez. To the second 
volume of the Miscellany he made seventeen contributions. 
Classical literature was, of course, among the subjects of the 
papers. At a very early period the Homeric poems appear 
to have powerfully attracted his attention ; but there were 
also articles, professedly humorous, in which we imagine he 
was less successful. The title of one paper was Eloquence, 
and if the youth's oratorical powers in any adequate degree 
indicated those of the man, he was assuredly competent to 
write effectively on such a topic. Probably he felt a confi- 
dence that he possessed the power, ' the applause of listen- 
ing senates to command,' and, indeed, there is in the essay 
an indication of an ambition which is not unlike Benjamin 
Disraeli's day-dreams of his Vivian Grey period. Both 
youths were prophets, inspired by the consciousness of great 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 285 



abilities and faith in themselves. ' A successful debut,' wrote 
Gladstone (in his eighteenth year, at school at Eton), ' an 
offer from the minister, a Secretaryship of State, and even 
the premiership itself, are the objects which form the vista 
along which a young visionary loves to look.' 

" In 1827 he bade farewell to Eton, its school-room and 
playing fields. Few of the pupils at that famous school 
were so well grounded in the classical learning chiefly valued 
there. He continued his studies for about two years as 
private pupil of Dr. Turner, who was afterwards appointed 
Bishop of Calcutta, and then entered as student, Christ 
Church College, Oxford. Here his industry was enormous, 
and even in the vacation he scarcely relaxed his ardour. 
One writer, describing his career at this period, says : ' No 
matter where he was, whether in college rooms or country 
mansion, from 10 A.M. to 2 P.M. no one ever saw William 
Ewart Gladstone. During this interval he was invariably 
locked up with his books. From the age of eighteen till 
that of twenty-one, he never neglected studying during 
these particular hours, unless he happened to be travelling ; 
and his evening ordeal was scarcely less severe. Eight 
o'clock saw him once more engaged in a stiff bout with 
Aristotle, or plunged deep in the text of Thucydides.' 

" In one respect the industrious student was more prudent 
than many of his fellows and competitors. Throughout his 
long life he has recognised the natural alliance of the physi- 
cal and intellectual portions of our compound being. Natu- 
rally hardy and muscular, he cultivated his bodily powers by 
regular, active exercise, and his high moral nature preserved 
him from the temptation to indulge enervating luxurious- 
ness. Temperate and active, trained to muscular exertion, 
he could probably have outwalked any of the undergraduates 
of his college as easily as he could have surpassed most of 
them in mental acquirements. A brisk walk of thirty or 
forty miles was a small matter to the handsome, well-knit 
young student, who returned from it with a refreshed brain 
and renewed vitality to his studies. The Oxford Union, 
that renowned debating society where so many of our 



286 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



greatest statesmen, lawyers, and divines trained their ora- 
torical powers and learned their first lessons in practical 
politics and philosophy, offered great attractions to Glad- 
stone. The position of President of the Union was justly 
looked upon as conferring a high honour, due to acknow- 
ledged intellectual power and oratorical ability ; and it is 
worth noting that seven presidents were at one time united 
in one of the administrations of which Mr. Gladstone was 
the chief. He had only been a member of the university 
for a few months when he made his first speech at the Union 
on the nth of February, 1830. He w r as afterwards a fre- 
quent speaker, taking the Tory view of public questions. 
That his style was rather rhetorically ornate, and that he 
made frequent reference to classical examples and freely re- 
sorted to classical quotations, we can readily suppose ; and 
that he was fluent, enthusiastic, and excitable is equally 
probable. He opposed the removal of Jewish disabilities 
and Parliamentary Reform, but supported Catholic Emanci- 
pation. A few years since, he referred to the opinions he 
had held in these Oxford days: ' I trace,' he said, • in the 
education of Oxford of my own time one great defect. 
Perhaps it was my own fault ; but I must admit that I did 
not learn when at Oxford that which I have learned since, 
namely, to set a due value on the imperishable and in- 
estimable principles of human liberty. The temper which 
I think too much prevailed in academic circles was to regard 
liberty with jealousy.' 

Mr. Gladstone has given much of his time to " inter- 
viewers." An American who called on Mr. Gladstone gives 
a very interesting account of his visit. He chose Sunday as 
the best day on which to make the call, because Mr. Glad- 
stone is always at home on that day. He says : 

" I was profoundly surprised and impressed when I was 
shown into the library at Hawarden to find Mr. Gladstone 
reading the Sermon on the Mount. During the few hours 
I had the advantage of spending in his company I was more 
than once reminded of the deep piety and absolute faith of 
this greatest living Englishman, whose pure and simple life 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 2%J 



is an example for the so-called latter-day philosophers who 
spend their lives in attempting to pull down the Temple of 
God. Like all English gentlemen, Mr. Gladstone is thor- 
oughly well bred, and, like all really great men, he is per- 
fectly simple and natural in his manners. He bore his 
seventy-five years remarkably well. His voice was full, 
strong, and rich ; his hair, although white, was abundant, 
with little signs of baldness. A slight stoop in his shoulders 
was the only indication of advanced age that the great com- 
moner exhibited. In conversing with an American visitor, 
Mr. Gladstone would naturally speak of the United States, 
for which country he has a decided admiration. 

"' America has a magnificent future,' he said, 'if the 
American people are only true to their possibilities. Before 
the close of the twentieth century the vast continent em- 
braced within the limits of the United States, stretching 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific and from the Gulf of Mexico 
to the great lakes of the North, will be the home of 300,000,- 
000 of freemen, representing every nation upon earth ; vaster 
in extent and population than the Roman Empire in its 
palmiest days, but free from the danger that attended the 
extension of that empire among barbarous peoples, which 
was the primary and potent cause of the decline and fall of 
the greatness of Rome. Every true Englishman should be 
proud of the progress of the United States, for the Ameri- 
cans are our kith and kin, and having the same literature, 
the same language, and the same sturdy love for political 
independence. The wrestling of Magna Charta from King 
John prepared the way for the battle of Bunker Hill and 
the Declaration of Independence.' 

" ' It is strange you have never visited the United States 
that you might see the practical working of Republican in- 
stitutions, Mr. Gladstone.' ' Nothing would give me more 
pleasure,' was his reply, ' but I have never been able to find 
the time. I have been in public life almost uninterruptedly 
since 1832, and for the last thirty-five years I have either 
been in office or one of the leaders of the opposition.' 

" I was deeply impressed with Mr. Gladstone from a per- 



288 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



sonal point of view. He is tall, his eyes are blue, his hands 
large, his feet English, you know; his manners gentle but 
dignified, and, while absolutely free from affectation, he dis- 
plays an ease and polish which we expect to find in an Eng- 
lish gentleman of his political and social position. William 
E. Gladstone is not like his great rival, Disraeli, a dashing 
political acrobat, but he is a great statesman, possessing a 
genius capable of guiding his country successfully through 
one of the most critical periods of her history. When he 
leaves the scene where he has shone so long and so bril- 
liantly, England will find it difficult to select from her public 
men one capable of taking the place of this Great Old Man." 
This sketch of Mr. Gladstone would be incomplete with- 
out the following interesting account of his oratorical ability : 

Mr. Gladstone as an Orator. 1 

" When the armies of political parties are set in battle 
array, Mr. Gladstone's transcendent abilities as an orator 
alone have full play. When, before rising to speak, he has 
definitely made up his mind which of three or more courses 
he shall take, and has nothing to do but declare his col- 
ours, build around them a rampart of argument, and seek 
to rally to them halting friends, then the marvellous clear- 
ness of his perception and his unusual ability for making 
dark places light is disclosed. After purporting to answer a 
simple question, and taking a quarter of an hour to do it in, 
Mr. Gladstone has sometimes sat down leaving the House 
in a condition of dismayed bewilderment, hopelessly at- 
tempting to grope its way through the intricacies of the 
sonorous sentences it has been listening to. But if he desires 
to make himself understood, there is no one who can better 
effect the purpose. There are few instances of a Govern- 
ment measure which met with more determined and di- 
versely motived opposition than the Irish University Act, 
introduced in the session of 1873. It is a matter of history 
that it broke the power of the strongest ministry that has 

1 Men and Manner in Parliament. By the Member for the Chiltern Hun- 
dreds. 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 289 

ruled England in these latter days. The provisions of the 
measure were singularly intricate, but when Mr. Gladstone 
sat down after speaking for upwards of three hours in 
explanation of the measure, he had not only made it clear 
from preamble to schedule, but he had momentarily talked 
the House of Commons over into the belief that this was a 
bill it would do well to accept. Mr. Horsman has been 
much laughed at because, whilst the glamour of this great 
speech was still strong upon him, he wrote an enthusiastic 
letter to the Times hailing Mr. Gladstone and his bill as 
among the most notable of recent dispensations of a benefi- 
cent Providence, words which he subsequently ate in the 
presence of a crowded House. But Mr. Horsman differed 
from seven-eighths of the House of Commons only in this, 
that he put pen to paper whilst he was yet under the influ- 
ence of the orator's spell, whereas the rest of the members 
contented themselves by verbal and private expressions of 
opinion. Mr. Gladstone's oratorical manner is much more 
strongly marked by action than is Mr. Bright's. He empha- 
sises by smiting his right hand in the open palm of his left ; 
by pointing his finger straight out at his adversary, real or 
representative ; and, in his hottest moments, by beating the 
table with his clenched hand. Sometimes in answer to 
cheers he turns right round to his immediate supporters on 
the benches behind him, and speaks directly to them ; where- 
upon the Conservatives, who hugely enjoy a baiting of the 
emotionable ex-Premier, call out ' Order ! order ! ' This 
call seldom fails in the desired effect of exciting the right 
honourable gentleman's irascibility, and when he loses his 
temper his opponents may well be glad. Mr. Bright always 
writes out the peroration of his speeches, and at one time 
was accustomed to send the slip of paper to the reporters. 
Mr. Disraeli sometimes writes out the whole of his speeches. 
The one he delivered to the Glasgow students in Novem- 
ber, 1873, was in type in the office of a London newspaper 
at the moment the right honourable gentleman was speaking 
at the university. Mr. Gladstone never writes a line of his 
speeches, and some of his most successful ones have been 



29O HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



made in the heat of debate, and necessarily without prepara- 
tion. His speech in winding up the debate on the Irish 
University Bill has rarely been excelled for close reasoning, 
brilliant illustration, and powerful eloquence ; yet if it be 
referred to it will be seen that it is for the greater and best 
part a reply to the speech of Mr. Disraeli, who had just sat 
down, yielding the floor to his rival half an hour after mid- 
night. Evidence of the same swift reviewing of a position, 
and of the existence of the same power of instantly mar- 
shalling arguments and illustrations, and sending them forth 
clad in a panoply of eloquence, is apparent in Mr. Gladstone's 
speech when commenting on Mr. Disraeli's announcement 
of the withdrawal of the main portion of the Endowed 
Schools Act Amendment Bill. The announcement, and 
especially the manner in which it was made, was a surprise 
that almost stunned and momentarily bewildered the House 
of Commons. Mr. Gladstone was bound to speak, and to 
speak the moment Mr. Disraeli resumed his seat. He had 
no opportunity to take counsel, and no time to make prepa- 
rations for his speech ; but the result of his masterly oration 
at this crisis was that the unpopularity and dissatisfaction 
created by the course he had taken in the matter of the 
Regulation of Public Worship Bill melted like snow in the 
firelight." 

The description of Mr. Gladstone's oratory by Mr. G. W. 
Smalley, the English correspondent of the New York Tri- 
bune, who accompanied Mr. Gladstone to Mid-Lothian in 
1884, is interesting: "The first note of his voice was lis- 
tened for with something like anxiety. Is it possible, that, 
after five years, that marvellous organ should be still in its 
full perfection of visible, of flexible strength? The curious 
in such details may note that a bottle of yellow fluid, from 
which a tumbler has been half-filled, stands on the table. 
The yellow fluid is egg-flip, a beverage, which, on this occa- 
sion, may be described as purely medicinal in character and 
purpose, and is compounded of the yolk of two or three 
eggs and two glasses of sherry. This is to keep throat and 
voice in order ; and, before the orator has made an end, he 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 29 1 



has sipped a tumblerful. But the first note of the voice, and 
the first half-dozen sentences of the first day, were re-assur- 
ing. There is no longer any fear that Mr. Gladstone is 
overtaxing his energies. I heard one of his friends say that 
he himself could take an accurate measure of his capacities, 
and of the precise demands a particular hall and audience 
would make upon them. He feels, as the rest of us feel, 
that the voice is all right. Yet he does not once try its full 
compass. The speech is didactive, argumentative, exposi- 
tory, anything you like but passionate or pathetic ; and 
you never know the full resources of this all but unequalled 
voice till you have heard it used in anger, in pity, in ridi- 
cule (for which he keeps one or two very subtle semi-notes), 
—above all, in one of those appeals to principle, and to what 
I must call religious conviction, which so often and so nobly 
close some of his greatest speeches. 

" I can well imagine that a stronger, hearing Mr. Glad- 
stone on Saturday for the first and only time, should go 
away with a certain sense of incompleteness in his experi- 
ence. He would have heard a speech which nobody else 
could have made, but he would by no means have heard the 
orator at his best. What I have said about the little call he 
made on his voice may be applied to the speech itself. He 
has not asked himself to do all he can. It is a speech with 
a definite purpose ; and he has deliberately sacrificed every- 
thing to the one great end of impressing on the country the 
supreme importance of the Franchise Bill, and on the lords 
the supreme advisability of yielding, without force, to the 
will of the people. But let the stranger come again on 
Monday. The place is the same, the scene is the same, the 
same orator stands on the same platform. But he is no 
longer in the same mood of sweet reasonableness, and 
nothing else. The very face has changed. On Saturday it 
wore a look of resolute placidity. On Monday the features 
are allowed their natural play, and if you sit near enough to 
look into those onyx-hued eyes, you will vainly try to sound 
their luminous depths. Anybody who has seen Mr. Glad- 
stone often, will discover at once, that, for this second ad- 



292 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



dress, he feels himself — to use again his own memorable 
expression — unmuzzled. There is no longer the dread of 
rousing popular passion against an institution, which, in his 
heart of hearts, the prime minister is more anxious to sup- 
port than to assail. The inexorable necessity of caution 
weighs him down no longer. He approaches this new task 
with a buoyant delight in the easy triumph he is about to 
win. The five years have rolled off his brow. Erect, elastic, 
exultant, he can hardly wait till the five thousand in front 
have done cheering, — indeed, but for his obvious impatience 
to begin, they might be cheering till now. In the first sen- 
tence on Monday, you really hear his voice for the first time. 
No trace of fatigue from the long effort on Saturday. None 
of the hardness of tone which was to be heard then. Com- 
pass, range, and quality are all enlarged and lettered. 

" His task now is, to retort upon his opponents the charges 
they have been heaping up against him. For five years the 
Tories have gone about insisting, with vague but emphatic 
assertion and re-assertion, that the prime minister had falsi- 
fied the pledges which Mr. Gladstone had given in the first 
Mid-Lothian speeches. Three-fourths of his speech on 
Monday are one triumphant cry, ' Prove it ! ' or, rather, 
* You have tried to prove it. You have had the text. You 
have piled accusation upon accusation, you have years to 
get up your case. I challenge you to put your finger on 
one count of this long indictment which you have supported 
by one syllable of evidence.' He goes over the record. He 
reviews the situation. He passes from topic to topic, per- 
haps too rapidly ; perhaps with a too comprehensive ambi- 
tion, and with too much eagerness to survey, in one single 
statement, the whole course of his administration, and to 
condense into this hour and a half a complete epitome of all 
he said in a week, in 1879, an d a ^ that ^' ls enemies have said 
in five years since ; and to set in a halo of light all the glaring 
contradictions, the baseless inventions of his critics, and the 
perfect and absolute harmony between his own pledges and 
the accomplished facts of his subsequent career. But what 
a scope such a programme gives him ! How he revels in it ! 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 293 



How he heaps irony upon sarcasm ! and how his defense 
rises to white-heat, and the steel you thought he was shaping 
into a shield suddenly flashes before you a two-edged sword, 
and cleaves asunder, in one blinding stroke, the unhappy 
foe! 

" Oh, yes ! this indeed is oratory ; and in the two hours, 
less ten minutes, during which it lasts, you may find examples 
of nearly every charm which it is possible for an orator to 
work upon his hearers. The effect he produces does not 
owe much to gesture. There is gesture, but it often lacks 
expressiveness. The arms are used pretty constantly ; but 
the same movement of the same muscles is made to signify, 
or meant to signify, very different things. It wants what 
on the French stage is called largeness or amplitude ; and 
it is sometimes violent, sometimes deficient in the grace and 
suavity which the admirable smoothness of voice leads you 
to expect. The shoulders rise and fall with what I am 
afraid must at times be described as jerkiness. Indeed, at 
such moments, the voice itself sometimes loses its purity, 
and harsh notes are heard. The rather frequent passage of 
the right forefinger across the lips, and the curious touch of 
the thumb on a particular spot at the summit of the broad 
arch of the forehead, are peculiarities which I only mention 
for the sake of fidelity, and with every apology to the orator 
for taking note of such specks upon the general splendour of 
his delivery. So of the quick bending and straightening of 
the knees. The impression one gets from these exceptional 
things is but momentary. They are incidents due to the 
overmastering intensity of thought and aim, — nature in her 
cruder moods, getting the better of the consummate art 
which is the prevailing, and all but continuous, condition 
with the orator. If there be any deficiencies of this sort, 
you will hardly observe them unless after long familiarity 
with the speaker. It is the face which will rivet your gaze, 
— the play of features, alike delicate and powerful, and the 
ever-restless, far-searching glance. Never was such a tell-tale 
countenance. Expression after expression sweeps across it, 
the thought pictures itself to you almost before it is uttered ; 



294 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



and if your eyes by chance meet his, it is a blaze of sunlight 
which dazzles you. Nor do the little blemishes really mat- 
ter. What masters, what impresses, you, and what you will 
carry away with you as a permanent and precious memory 
is, above all other things, the nobleness of presence, the 
beautiful dignity, the stateliness of bearing, the immense 
sincerity, which are visible to the eyes of the most careless 
spectator, and which fill the hall with their influence, and 
place the whole multitude wholly at the mercy of the one 
fellow-being who stands before them." 

The charm of Hawarden is its park, as it is of every other 
noted European house. Mr. Gladstone delights chiefly in 
his trees, and he likes them too well to let them fall into 
decay. When a tree has reached its perfect growth, he re- 
joices to cut it down with a good American axe. He has a 
collection of thirty axes, many of which have been sent to 
him by persons sympathizing with his love of the woods- 
man's craft. For his own chopping he never uses an axe 
not made in New England. 

There is a great deal of entertaining information about the 
daily life of the Grand Old Man in a recent issue of one of 
the English papers. Mr. Gladstone lives a very regular life 
at his home, we are told. He breakfasts lightly about seven 
o'clock in the morning, and shortly before eight walks to the 
Hawarden Church for prayers. Upon his return he retires 
to his study, where he peruses and answers his enormous 
mass of daily correspondence. Luncheon at the Castle is 
conducted in a homely manner. The " lunch is on the hob " 
at Hawarden Castle for an hour or two during the day, and 
is partaken of by those at home at various times. In the 
afternoon Mr. Gladstone takes a walk in the grounds and 
dines at eight o'clock. He retires early, and shortly after 
ten o'clock his day's labours are over. He drinks bitter beer 
with his luncheon. A glass or two of claret at dinner, and 
sometimes a glass of port, that nectar of orators, satisfy his 
very moderate requirements for stimulant. 

Like General IgnatiefT, he has never smoked. He belongs 
to the older school, which acquired its habits at a time when 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 29$ 



tobacco smoking was regarded as somewhat vulgar. Hence, 
neither pipe, cigar nor cigarette is ever to be seen between 
his lips. But Mr. Gladstone is not in any sense ascetic ; he 
is a generous liver and is a great believer in the virtues of a 
glass of good port wine. When speaking, his fillip is a com- 
pound of sherry and egg, which is carefully prepared by 
Mrs. Gladstone, who attends to its manufacture with as 
much anxiety as if it were the elixir of life. 

Mr. Gladstone usually has three books in reading at the 
same time, and changes from one to another when his mind 
has reached the limit of absorption. This is a necessary cor- 
rective to the tendency to think only of one thing at one 
time, which sometimes in politics leads him to neglect that 
all-round survey of the situation which is indispensable to a 
Prime Minister. During the beginning of the Irish question 
in 1880 he was so absorbed in the question of the coercion 
of Turkey that he could hardly be induced to spare a 
thought for Ireland ; now it is just as difficult to get him to 
think of any political question but that of Ireland. 

He complains sometimes that his memory is no longer 
quite so good as it used to be, but, although that may be 
true, it is still twice as good as anybody else's, for Mr. Glad- 
stone has an extraordinary faculty of not only remembering 
those things he ought to remember but for forgetting those 
things it is useless for him to remember. 

He possesses the enormous gift of being able to sleep. 
All his life long he has been a sound sleeper. It used to be 
said that he had a faculty which was possessed by Napoleon 
Bonaparte of commanding sleep at will, and, what is perhaps 
still rarer, of waking up instantly in full possession'of every 
faculty. Some people can go to sleep soon, but they take 
some time to wake. Mr. Gladstone, it used to be said, was 
capable of sitting down in a chair, covering his face with a 
handkerchief and going to sleep in thirty seconds, and after 
sleeping for thirty minutes or an hour, as the case might be, 
waking up as bright as ever, all drowsiness disappearing the 
moment he opened his eyes. During all Mr. Gladstone's 
career he has never lost his sleep, except once and that was 



296 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



during the troubles that arose about Egypt and General 
Gordon. Then he slept badly and for the first time, it was 
feared that he would not be able to maintain the burden of 
office. He has, however, got over the effect of that period 
of stress and strain and he is still able to count confidently 
upon at least five consecutive hours of sound and refreshing 
sleep every night. But for that he would long ago have 
broken down. 

Although Mr. Gladstone is pre-eminently a talker in 
society, yet he does not disdain the other arts by which 
people who dine out contrive to spend the time. In his 
younger days he used to be quite noted for singing either 
solos or part-songs, and even down to the present time the 
musical bass of his voice is often heard to great advantage 
in family worship at Hawarden on Sunday nights. Whether 
he still keeps up the practice of singing in company is doubt- 
ful, but there are legends of the wonderful effect with which 
he was wont to render a favourite Scotch song, and irrever- 
ent gossips have even declared that on one occasion Mr. 
Gladstone brought down the drawing-room by the vivacity 
and rollicking spirit with which he rendered the well-known 
Camptown Races with its familiar refrain : 

" Gwine to ride all night, 
Gwine to ride all day ; 
I bet my money on the bob-tail nag, 
And somebody bet on the bay. 
O du-dah-day ! " 

His high spirits break out at every moment, and he used 
to rejoice to play a comedy part on his own or his son's 
lawn. It would be incorrect to say that on the occasion of 
popular celebrations, of local fancy fairs and cottage gardening 
shows, Mr. Gladstone plays down to the level of his audience. 
On the contrary, he exhibits just sufficient sympathy to raise 
them to enthusiasm, and no more. Of Mr. Gladstone's lieu- 
tenant, Mr. Morley, it may be said that he has no amuse- 
ments whatever. He neither boats, nor rides, nor cuts down 
trees, nor, as one veracious chronicler asserted, does he spend 



ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 297 



his leisure time in catching butterflies. He indulges in none 
of the ordinary dissipations by which the statesman and the 
man of letters can unbend his bow. Mr. Gladstone, as 
might be expected, is most catholic in his tastes, but, except 
for wood-cutting and pedestrianism, he can hardly be said to 
be much of an athlete. He has played cricket and other 
games, but he has never thrown himself into them with that 
passion which is necessary for success, although one could 
imagine Mr. Gladstone being the champion cricketer of 
England, if he gave his mind to it, even now. But in out- 
of-door sports he prefers Shank's pony to any other means, 
excepting the cutting down of trees, of amusing himself. 
He is a great pedestrian, and is able to distance any ordinary 
walker, although he will soon be in his 80th year. Mrs. 
Gladstone is also a good pedestrian, and one Summer they 
amused themselves one afternoon by ascending a hill some 
3000 feet above the sea-level without appearing to feel the 
exertion arduous. At indoor games Mr. Gladstone used to 
enjoy a rubber at whist, but he is now more devoted to 
back-gammon, a game which he plays with the same concen- 
tration of energy and attention that he devotes to the pre- 
paration of a Budget or the course of a parliamentary debate. 
He occasionally plays at draughts, but is a very bad hand at 
the chequers. 

Mr. Gladstone's society has always been an immense ad- 
dition to the company to w r hich he was invited. No one 
could be more humble and more simple, or more ready to 
" take a back seat," but he never takes airs upon himself, 
and falls in harmoniously with anything that is going on. 
The account published some time ago of Mr. Gladstone as a 
conversationalist is singularly incorrect in representing him 
as monopolising all the conversation. Mr. Gladstone no 
doubt takes his fair share, which is a very large one, but no 
one is less given to monopolising talk than he. He can talk 
about anything, and pours out a flood of information, of 
anecdote and of illustration, upon any theme that may be 
started in a fashion which makes the ordinary visitor feel 
that the best service he can render is to listen, merely throw- 



298 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ing in, from time to time, a remark necessary to start Mr. 
Gladstone along on a fresh track, or to force him to draw 
still more deeply from the immense reservoir of hoarded 
knowledge which he has under his command. 

Not that Mr. Gladstone is a man whom you can lightly 
contradict, or one before whom you would care to hazard 
any observation which you had not carefully considered. 
The promptitude with which he comes down upon any un- 
happy wretch who may have happened to hazard an obser- 
vation which Mr. Gladstone does not believe to have been 
founded on fact is like the swoop of an eagle on its prey. 
The eye flashes and the unfortunate interlocutor is com- 
pelled to " stand and deliver " his facts, his references, and 
his " justificatory pieces " in a fashion which once ex- 
perienced is never forgotten. The peculiar flash in Mr. 
Gladstone's eye as he turns upon anyone whose remarks or 
acts have slightly ruffled the equanimity of his soul, was 
very marked ten years ago ! Of late he requires more rous- 
ing than he used to, but even still there are times when 
those who know him can well understand the remark of the 
West-countryman who once wrote to Mr. Gladstone saying: 
" You do not know me, and have forgotten that we ever met. 
I have not forgotten you, nor can I ever forget the flash of 
your eagle eye on Frome platform, which went through 
me." 

Mr. Gladstone has been one of England's most won- 
derful statesmen. His influence has been world-wide, and 
will last until the end of time. Many years have elapsed 
since Macaulay described Mr. Gladstone as the " rising hope 
of the stern and unbending Tories, who follow reluctantly 
and mutinously a leader whose experience and eloquence 
are indispensable to them, but whose cautious temper and 
moderate opinions they abhor." How completely his career 
has disappointed the " stern and unbending Tories," it is 
unnecessary to say. 

The purity of Mr. Gladstone's motives no one has ever 
dared to question. His public and private character are 
beyond reproach. The generosity and magnanimity with 






ORATORY IN ENGLAND. 



299 



which he treats his political adversaries ; his fidelity to his 
colleagues and constituents ; the earnestness with which he 
throws himself into any cause which he believes to be right 
— are traits which should not be forgotten in estimating his 
character. Mr. Gladstone is a singularly great and noble 
man, and has honestly won the admiration with which he 
is universally regarded. 




CHAPTER V. 



ORATORY IN FRANCE. 



THE legal profession in France has achieved for itself 
a proud position. The forensic orators of France 
have always been justly noted for their great human- 
ity, their chivalrous courage, profound knowledge of the 
law, their varied accomplishments, and their powerful elo- 
quence. They have always discharged their duties to their 
clients with the greatest boldness and fidelity. Not only has 
the French bar been remarkably free from corruption, but 
judicial corruption has always been punished there with 
great severity. As a proof of the strict severity with which 
corruption on the part of any member of the court, in France, 
was punished, it is said, that, as long ago as 1348, one of the 
judges, named Alani de Ourdery, was hanged by order of 
the parliament for corruption in office. 

Another instance of the same impartial justice occurred in 
1496, when Claude de Chamvreux, a judge and formerly a 
councillor, was convicted of corruption in regard to certain 
matters which had been referred to him. A strong effort 
was made to save him, but the guilty judge was not allowed 
to escape. " He was deprived of his office, and openly 
stripped of his scarlet gown and furred cap ; and then with 
naked feet and bare head, and holding in his hand a lighted 
torch, he fell upon his knees upon the floor, and begged 
aloud for mercy from God, and the king, and justice, and 
the parties whom he had injured. The report which he had 
falsified was then torn to pieces by an officer of the court ; 

300 



ORATORY IN FRANCE. 3OI 



and the culprit was conducted to the quadrangle of the 
Palais de Justice, and, being consigned over to the public 
executioner, was forced to mount upon a cart, and conducted 
to the pillory, where he stood for three hours. He was after- 
wards branded on the forehead by a hot iron with a fleur de 
lis, and banished forever from the realm." It is a great pity 
that all unjust judges in every country could not be treated 
in a similar manner, and when our civilisation becomes 
higher they will be. 

The order of advocates in France bore some analogy to 
the order of knighthood, as may be seen by the following 
rules, to which, with many others, the advocate promised 
obedience upon his admission to the bar: 

" 1. He shall not undertake just and unjust causes alike 
without distinction, nor maintain such as he undertakes, 
with trickery, fallacies, and misquotations of authorities. 

" 2, He was not, in his pleadings, to indulge in abuse of 
the opposite party or his counsel. 

" 3. He was not to compromise the interests of his clients, 
by absence from court when the cause in which he was re- 
tained was called on. 

" 4. He was not to violate the respect due to the court, by 
either improper expressions, or unbecoming gestures. 

" 5. He was not to exhibit a sordid avidity of gain, by 
putting too high a price upon his services. 

" 6. He was not to make any bargain with his client for a 
share in the fruits of the judgment he might recover. 

" 7. He was not to lead a dissipated life, or one contrary 
to the gravity of his calling. 

" 8. He was not, under pain of being debarred, to refuse 
his services to the indigent and oppressed." 

The last rule, it will be noticed, breathes the very spirit of 
chivalry. 

" Purity of life and disinterested zeal in the cause of the 
poor and friendless were enjoined upon the chevalier and 
the advocate alike ; and doubtless the resemblance between 
the two professions, of which the latter was thus reminded, 
had a powerful effect in producing a tone of high-minded 



3<D2 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



feeling which ought ever to be the characteristic of the bar. 
But sometimes the resemblance was carried farther than was 
either safe or agreeable, and the advocate had to perform a 
warlike office, not in a figurative, but a literal sense. I allude 
to the appeal or wager of battel, whereby the sword was 
made the arbiter of disputes, and sanguinary duels were 
sanctioned by courts of law." 

M. Berryer has drawn an interesting picture of one of the 
French advocates of the olden time in the performance of his 
daily duties : " We see him, dressed in his robes of black sa- 
tin, set out at an early hour, on a summer morning, from one 
of the picturesque houses, with peaked turrets and high gable 
ends, which rose above the banks of the Seine in old Paris, and 
hurrying forward to the court, because the clock of the Holy 
Chapel had just struck six, at which the judges are obliged 
to take their seats, under pain of losing their salary for the 
day. He is busy thinking over the cause which he has to 
plead, and taxes his ingenuity to compress his speech into 
as brief a compass as possible ; for he remembers that an 
ordinance of Charles VIII., issued in 1493, imposes a fine 
upon long-winded advocates who weary the court with their 
prolixity. Look at his countenance. The furred hood 
which covers his head, and the ample grey cloak, the collar 
of which hides half his face, cannot so far conceal it as to 
prevent you from seeing an expression of anger there, which 
is no doubt excited by the recollection of the arguments 
used by his opponent on the preceding evening. But think 
not that when he reaches the court and rises to reply, he 
will retort by any abusive language ; for by another regula- 
tion of the same king, counsel are expressly forbidden to 
use any opprobrious words towards their antagonists. The 
judges are seated on their chairs ; the parties are before 
them ; and now he, whose portrait we are sketching, rises to 
address the court. He speaks under the solemn sanction of 
an oath, for he has sworn to undertake only such causes as, 
in his conscience, he believes to be just ; he has also sworn 
not to spin out his pleadings by any of the tricks of his pro- 
fession, but make them as concise as possible. If, in the 









ORA TOR Y IN FRANCE. 303 



course of his harangue, he touches on any question which 
he thinks may affect the interests of the crown, he suddenly 
stops and gives formal notice of it to the court. Twelve 
o'clock strikes just after the cause is over and judgment pro- 
nounced, and the court rises. His client has been success- 
ful, and he now takes his counsel aside to settle with him 
the amount of his fees ; and it is not without an effort that 
he grudgingly gives him the sum which the royal ordinance 
permits him to receive." 

Every nation has its standard of eloquence — nay, even in 
different sections of the same country — the standards are 
different, as, for instance, in the United States — the orators 
of the South and West are more demonstrative than the 
orators of the North. But a finished speaker would be 
listened to by an intelligent audience with pleasure in any 
country, notwithstanding the differences in the standards of 
oratory. 

To the comparatively cold English or American audiences, 
the eloquence of many of the French orators would appear 
too declamatory in character, while a French audience would 
think an English or American orator lacking in warmth and 
animation. 

It is not the author's purpose to give a history of the 
French bar, and the limits of the present work forbid more 
than a glance at some of the greatest of the modern forensic 
and political orators of France. 

The reader is doubtless familiar with the history of the 
French Revolution, and knows that the Convention of the 
States-General, and the final organisation of the National 
Assembly, fixed it irretrievably. The deputies of the peo- 
ple, after they assembled from every quarter of France, 
found themselves opposed by a corrupt Court and aris- 
tocracy, and, although the nation was on the brink of ruin, 
they were obliged to spend months in contending for the 
plainest principles of civil liberty. The reformations which 
were demanded by the exigencies of the times might not 
have been carried, had it not been for Mirabeau, — the great 
orator of the Assembly. He hurled defiance and scorn on 



304 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



the nobility and the King, from the very beginning, and in- 
spired the Convention with his own boldness. " No matter 
what vacillation or fears might agitate the members, when 
his voice of thunder shook the hall in which they sat, every 
heart grew determined and resolute. With his bushy black 
hair standing on end, and his eyes flashing fire, he became 
at once the hope of the people and the terror of the aris- 
tocracy. Incoherent and unwieldy in the commencement 
of his speech, steady and strong when fairly under motion, 
he carried resistless powers in his appeals. As a huge ship 
in a dead calm rolls and rocks on the heavy swell, but the 
moment the wind fills its sails stretches proudly away, 
throwing the foam from its front, — so he tossed irregular 
and blind upon the sea of thought, until caught by the 
breath of passion, when he moved majestically, irresistibly 
onward." 

" Slave, go tell your master that we are here by the will 
of the people, and that we will depart only at the point of 
the bayonet." These words, spoken to the emissary of 
Lewis by Mirabeau, sealed the fate of despotism in France. 

The Constituent Assembly sat from 1789 to 1791. The 
overthrow of the Bastile, and triumph of the people, caused 
the aristocrats to fly from France in crowds. Theretofore 
they had constituted the chief opponents of the deputies of 
the people, and after their departure, there being no longer 
any opposition, the deputies split into two parties among 
themselves. 

The Girondists, at first, were the Republicans, and favoured 
the establishment of a government founded on the principles 
of the republics of Greece and Rome, but a party springing 
up, more radical than their own, and pushing the state 
toward anarchy, they became Conservatives. Mirabeau, in 
the meantime, full of gloomy forebodings, died. The Mira- 
beau family was Etruscan. It retained in all its members 
for many generations, not alone its Latin origin, but the 
aristocratic pride, the talent for oratory, the rich imagina- 
tion, the war-like spirit, the cultivated tastes, for which the 
family was famous. 



ORATORY IN FRANCE. 305 



Mirabeau. — Honore Gabriel Riquette, Compte de Mira- 
beau, was born at Bignon, in France, on the 9th of March, 
1749. He was the greatest of the French political orators. 
Mirabeau was one of the most extraordinary men of his age. 
In intellect he far surpassed all the great luminaries of that 
brilliant period. With all his vices, Mirabeau had many re- 
deeming traits. A more ardent patriot than Mirabeau never 
lived. The love of France never ceased in his heart but with 
his last breath, and the good of his country was mingled even 
w r ith his dying aspirations. If his life had been spared it is 
thought by many writers that the Revolution would have 
taken another direction. The following graphic sketch of 
his oratorical character, which will afford the reader some 
idea of his vehemence as a public speaker, is furnished by a 
distinguished French writer, author of Noted French Orators. 

" Mirabeau in the tribune was the most imposing of ora- 
tors ; an orator so consummate, that it is harder to say what 
he wanted than what he possessed. 

" Mirabeau had a massive and square obesity of figure, 
thick lips, a forehead broad, bony, prominent ; arched eye- 
brows, an eagle eye, cheeks flat and somewhat flabby, 
features full of pock-holes and blotches, a voice of thunder, 
an enormous mass of hair, and the face of a lion. 

" His manner as an orator is that of the great masters of 
antiquity, with an admirable energy of gesture, and a vehe- 
mence of diction which perhaps they had never reached. 

" Mirabeau in his premeditated discourses was admirable. 
But what was he not in his extemporaneous effusions? His 
natural vehemence, of which he repressed the flights in his 
prepared speeches, broke down all barriers in his improvisa- 
tions. A sort of nervous irritability gave then to his whole 
frame an almost preternatural animation and life. His 
breast dilated with an impetuous breathing. His lion face 
became wrinkled and contorted. His eyes shot forth flame. 
He roared, he stamped, he shook the fierce mass of his hair, 
all whitened with foam ; he trod the tribune with the supreme 
authority of a master, and the imperial air of a king. What 
an interesting spectacle to behold him, momently, erect and 



306 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



exalt himself under the pressure of obstacle ! To see him 
display the pride of his commanding brow ! To see him, 
like the ancient orator, when, with all the powers of his un- 
chained eloquence, he was wont to sway to and fro in the 
forum the agitated waves of the Roman multitude ! Then 
would he throw by the measured notes of his declamation, 
habitually grave and solemn. Then would escape him 
broken exclamations, tones of thunder, and accents of 
heartrending and terrible pathos. He concealed with the 
flesh and colour of his rhetoric the sinewy arguments of his 
dialectics. He transported the Assembly, because he was 
himself transported. And yet — so extraordinary was his 
force — he abandoned himself to the torrent of his eloquence 
without wandering from his course ; he mastered others by 
its sovereign sway, without losing for an instant his own 
self-control." Throughout his strange career, Mirabeau 
bore with him the remembrance of an unnatural father's 
hate. 

" I have nothing to tell you of my prodigious son," writes 
his father a few months after the child's birth, " except that 
he battles with his nurse." A year later he adds : " He is as 
ugly as a child of the devil." When the boy is five years old, 
he says : " He is as sand on which no impression remains. I 
have placed him in Poisson's hands, who is as devoted as a 
spaniel to me. Thank him much for the education he is 
giving the brat. Let him form him into a steady citizen, 
and that is all that is necessary. Possessing those qualities, 
he can make the pigmy race who play fine at court tremble ! 
. . . To-night a little monster that they say is my son 
is to perform a part in a play ; but were he the son of our 
greatest comedian he could not be a more perfect buffoon, 
mimic, and actor. His body increases, his chattering in- 
creases, his face grows marvellously ugly, ugly as if by 
preference and intent, and, further, he declaims perfectly at 
random. He is a sickly child ; if it were necessary for me 
to produce another, where the devil should I find a pattern 
of the same material ? He is turbulent, yet gentle and 
amenable, indeed so much so that it approaches to stupid 



ORATORY IN FRANCE. 307 



ity. Like Punch, all belly and all back, but very ready on 
the occasion to imitate the tortoise, presenting the shell, 
and allowing himself to be struck. This big, ungainly 
Gabriel goes about everywhere soliciting alms in order to 
give charity to beggars ; following in that respect the ex- 
ample of his mother, notwithstanding all I say about its 
being contrary to my principles. The other day at one of 
those fetes given at my house when races are run, and 
prizes won, he gained a hat, and then turning to a child 
who had a cap on, he put his own on him, saying to the lit- 
tle peasant, ' Here, take it, I have not two heads ! ' That 
youth appeared to me then emperor of the world ! I don't 
know what godlike expression passed over his face at the 
moment, but it haunted me in my dreams, and brought 
tears to my eyes. The lesson did me good." 

As a fine specimen of his burning eloquence, we quote his 
beautiful eulogium on our immortal Franklin, pronounced 
on the nth of June, 1790: 

" Franklin is dead ! Restored to the bosom of the divinity 
is that genius which gave freedom to America and rayed 
forth torrents of light upon Europe. The sage whom two 
worlds claim — the man whom the history of empires and the 
history of science alike contend for — occupied, it cannot be 
denied, a lofty rank among his species. Long enough have 
political cabinets signalised the death of those who were 
great in their funeral eulogies only. Long enough has the 
etiquette of courts prescribed hypocritical mournings. For 
their benefactors only should nations assume the emblems 
of grief ; and the representatives of nations should commend 
only the heroes of humanity to public veneration. 

" In the fourteen states of the confederacy, Congress has 
ordained a mourning of two months for the death of Frank- 
lin ; and America is at this moment acquitting herself of 
this tribute of honour to one of the Fathers of her Con- 
stitution. Would it not become us, gentlemen, to unite 
in this religious act ; to participate in this homage, publicly 
rendered, at once to the rights of man, and to the philoso- 
pher who has contributed most largely to their vindication 



308 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



throughout the world ? Antiquity would have erected altars 
to this great and powerful genius, who, to promote the 
welfare of mankind, comprehending both the heavens 
and the earth in the range of his thought, could at once 
snatch the bolt from the cloud and the scepter from 
tyrants. France, enlightened and free, owes at least the ac- 
knowledgement of her remembrance and regret to one of 
the greatest intellects that ever served the united cause of 
philosophy and liberty. I propose that it be now decreed 
that the national Assembly wear mourning, during three 
days, for Benjamin Franklin." 

Mirabeau's capacity for hard work was simply marvellous. 
It is said that he did more in a day than the majority of 
men would do in a month. He carried on a prodigious 
amount of business simultaneously. No time was lost from 
his conception of a project to its execution. To-day, not 
to-morrow, seems to have been his motto. Conversation 
alone could seduce him from his work, and even that he 
converted into a means of labour. 

He read very little, but with great rapidity. He discov- 
ered at a glance what was useful to him in a book. As fast 
as a speech was changed, he had fresh copies of it made. 
He was very impatient of delays. His secretary one day 
said to him, " The thing you require is impossible." Said 
Mirabeau, passionately starting from his chair, " Impossible! 
never again use that foolish word in my presence ! " 

Carmenin, an eloquent French writer says of Mirabeau : 

" Everywhere, in every thing, already Mirabeau reveals 
himself ; — in his letters, in his pleadings, in his memorials, 
in his treatises on arbitrary imprisonments, on the liberty of 
the press, on the privileges of the nobility, on the inequality 
of distinctions, on the financial affairs and the situation of 
Europe: enemy of every abuse, vehement, polemic, bold 
reformer ; more remarkable, it is true, for elevation, hardi- 
hood, and originality of thought, for sagacity of observation, 
and vigour of reasoning, than for the graces of form ; verbose, 
even loose, incorrect, unequal, but rapid and picturesque in 
style,— a spoken, not a written style, as is that of most orators. 



ORATORY IN FRANCE. 309 



With what masculine eloquence he objurgates the King of 
Prussia ! " Do but what the son of your slave will have 
done ten times a day, ten times better than you, the cour- 
tiers will tell you you have performed an extraordinary 
action. Give full reign to your passions, they will tell you, 
you do well. Squander the sweat and the blood of your 
subjects like the waters of the rivers, they will say you do 
well. If you descend to avenge yourself, — you so powerful 
— they will say you do well. They have said so, when Alex- 
ander, in his drunkenness, tore open with his piognard the 
bosom of his friend. They have said so, when Nero assas- 
sinated his mother." 

Is not this in the oratorical style ? 

The following picture of a legal constitution must have 
thrilled the popular heart : 

" Too often are bayonets the only remedy applied to the 
convulsions of oppression and want. But bayonets never 
re-establish but the peace of terror, the silence of despotism. 
Ah ! the people are not a furious herd which must be 
kept in chains ! Always quiet and moderate, when they are 
truly free, they are violent and unruly but under those gov- 
ernments where they are systematically debased in order to 
have a pretext to despise them. When we consider what 
must result to the happiness of twenty-five millions of men, 
from a legal constitution in place of ministerial caprices, — 
from the consent of all the wills and the co-operation of all 
the lights of the nation in the improvement of our laws, 
from the reform of abuses, from the reduction of taxes, 
from economy in the finances, from the mitigation of the 
penal laws, from regularity of procedure in the tribunals, 
from the abolition of a multitude of servitudes which shackle 
industry and mutilate the human faculties, in a word, from 
that grand system of liberty, which, planted on the firm basis 
of freely-elected municipalities, rises gradually to the pro- 
vincial administrations, and receives its completion from the 
annual recurrence of the States-General — when we weigh all 
that must result from the restoration of this vast empire, 
who does not feel that the greatest of crimes, the darkest 



3IO HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



outrage against humanity, would be to offer opposition to 
the rising destiny of our country and thrust her back into 
the depths of the abyss, there to hold her oppressed beneath 
the burthen of all her chains." 

When he proposed that the thanks of the Assembly be 
voted to Bailly and Lafayette, he enumerated the difficul- 
ties of their civil and military administration with great 
accuracy and nicety of observation : 

" What an administration ! what an epoch, where all is to be 
feared and all to be braved ! when tumult begets tumult, when 
an affray is produced by the very means taken to prevent it ; 
— when moderation is unceasingly necessary, and moderation 
appears pusillanimity, timidity, treason, when you are beset 
with a thousand counsels, and yet must take your own — 
when all persons are to be dreaded, even citizens whose in- 
tentions are pure, but whom distrust, excitement, exaggera- 
tion, render almost as formidable as conspirators — when one 
is obliged, even in critical circumstances, to yield up his 
wisdom, to lead anarchy in order to repress it, to assume an 
employment glorious, it is true, but environed with the most 
harassing alarms — when it is necessary besides, in the midst 
of such and so many difficulties, to show a serene counte- 
nance, to be always calm, to enforce order even in the small- 
est details, to offend no one, to heal all jealousies, to serve 
incessantly and seek to please, but without the appearance 
of being a servant." 

When M. Necker, minister of finance, asked the As- 
sembly for a vote of confidence, Mirabeau, in order to carry 
it by storm, displayed all the irony of his eloquence and all 
the might of his logic ; and when he saw the auditory 
shaken, he hurled against bankruptcy the following fulmi- 
nations : 

" Oh ! if declarations less solemn did not guarantee our 
respect for the public faith, our horror of the infamous 
word bankruptcy, I should say to those who familiarise 
themselves perhaps with the idea of repudiating the public 
engagements, through fear of excessive sacrifices, through 
terror of taxation : What, then, is bankruptcy, if it is not the 



OR A TOR Y IN FRANCE. 3 1 1 



cruelest, the most iniquitous, the most disastrous of imposts? 
My friends, listen to me, a word, a single word ! 

" Two centuries of depredation and robbery have ex- 
cavated the abyss wherein the kingdom is on the verge of 
being engulfed. This frightful gulf it is indispensable to fill 
up. Well, here is a list of the proprietors. Choose from 
among the richest, so as to sacrifice the smallest number of 
the citizens. But choose ! for is it not expedient that a 
small number perish to save the mass of the people ? Come 
— these two thousand notables possess wherewith to supply 
the deficit. Restore order to our finances, peace and pros- 
perity to the kingdom. Strike, and immolate pitilessly these 
melancholy victims, precipitate them into the abyss ; it is 
about to close. . . . What, you recoil with horror ! . . . 
Inconsistent, pusillanimous men ! And do you not see that 
in decreeing bankruptcy — or, what is more odious still, in 
rendering it inevitable without decreeing — you disgrace 
yourselves with an act a thousand times more criminal ; for, 
in fact, that horrible sacrifice would remove the deficiency. 
But do you imagine, that because you refuse to pay, you 
shall cease to owe ? Do you think the thousands, the mil- 
lions of men who will lose in an instant by the dreadful ex- 
plosion or its revulsions, all that constituted the comfort- of 
their lives, and perhaps their sole means of subsistence, will 
leave you in the peaceable enjoyment of your crime ! 
Stoical contemplators of the incalculable woes which this 
catastrophe will scatter over France ; unfeeling egotists, who 
think these convulsions of despair and wretchedness will 
pass away like so many others, and pass the more rapidly as 
they will be the more violent, are you quite sure that so 
many men without bread will leave you tranquilly to luxuri- 
ate amid the viands which you will have been unwilling to 
curtail in either variety or delicacy ? . . . No, you will 
perish ; and in the universal conflagration, which you do not 
tremble to kindle, the loss of your honour will not save you 
a single one of your detestable luxuries ! Vote, then, this 
extraordinary subsidy, and may it prove sufficient ! Vote it, 
because the class most interested in the sacrifice which the 



312 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



government demands, is you yourselves ! Vote it, because 
the public exigencies allow of no evasion, and that you will 
be responsible for every delay ! Beware of asking time ; 
misfortune never grants it. What ! gentlemen, in reference 
to a ridiculous movement of the Palais-Royal, a ludicrous 
insurrection which had never any consequence except in the 
weak imaginations or the wicked purposes of a few design- 
ing men, you have heard not long since these insane cries : 
Cataline is at the gates of Rome, and you deliberate. And 
assuredly, there was around you neither Cataline, nor danger, 
nor factions, nor Rome. . . . But to-day, bankruptcy, 
hideous bankruptcy, is there before you. It threatens to 
consume you, your country, your property, your honour ! 
. . . And you deliberate ! " 

This is as beautiful as it is antique. 

Dumont, in his Recollections of Mirabeau, gives the fol- 
lowing account of that great man as an orator : 

" In the tribune he was impenetrable ; those who have 
seen him know that the waves rolled around him without 
moving him, and that even in the midst of all the abuse he 
remained master of his passions. I remember hearing him 
deliver a report on the town of Marseilles ; every word was 
interrupted by those sitting on the right side by abuse ; he 
heard the words calumniator, liar, assassin, scoundrel, and 
all the eloquence of a Billingsgate, echo around him. He 
stopped a moment, and addressing himself to the most 
furious, in a soft sweet voice, said : ' I will wait, gentlemen, 
till this pleasantness shall have exhausted itself,' and he re- 
mained perfectly tranquil as if they had given him the most 
favourable reception. He never looked on himself as suffi- 
ciently provoked to forget oratorical decorum. But what 
was wanting in him as a political orator was the art of dis- 
cussion on subjects which were exacted from him ; he did 
not know how to embrace a series of arguments and proofs ; 
he did not understand refuting with method ; also he was in- 
duced to abandon important motions whenever he had read 
his speech, and after a brilliant beginning he disappeared, 
leaving the field to his adversary. Barnave had better 



ORATORY IN FRANCE. 313 



reasoning powers, and followed step by step the arguments 
of his antagonists, but he had no imagination, gave no colour- 
ing to anything, had no style, and consequently no eloquence. 
One day when a parallel was drawn between his talent for 
argument and Mirabeau's talent for oratory, some one said, 
1 How can you compare that artificial, stiff hedge to a tree 
in an open space displaying all its natural beauty? ' It is 
certain these two men were not of the same temperament ; 
but Mirabeau well knew his weak point, and one day when 
he had been speaking with that description of refutation 
with some little success, he said to us, ' I see well enough 
that in order to extemporise on a subject, one must com- 
mence by well understanding it.' It was, moreover, the wise 
habit of Mirabeau to give himself leisure for reflection when- 
ever he had to reply on important subjects. He called re- 
flection, with much reason, man's greatest power. He took 
care not to neglect it. More a thinker than an extemporiser, 
he never spoke without first writing or dictating his speeches. 
Resembling Cicero and Demosthenes in this respect, he read 
them over, put finishing strokes, gave them solidity by 
lengthened arguments, lightened them by touches of elo- 
quence, recalled them to his memory, sometimes read them, 
but more often spoke them, adding, to that which he had 
meditated on, the abrupt unforeseen fire of inspiration. At 
the sittings when he was going to speak, he always made 
his secretaries and compilers follow him, such as Dumont, 
Duroveray, Pellene, and de Comps. 

" He kept them shut into a small room near the tribune, 
behind the president's office, waiting his orders. These 
confidants of his thoughts were desired to follow the dis- 
cussions in which he took part, and to note all the ideas and 
all the refutations that the circumstance and debate sug- 
gested to them. If he was obliged to re-ascend the tribune 
for a reply, however short, he went first and consulted this 
intimate council. 

" He dictated to them the terms in which he proposed 
answering his adversaries, he listened to their remarks, 
he noted their arguments, he wrote down his reply, he 



314 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



read it over to his friends, he made, so to speak, the trial of 
his inspiration in their presence before doing so in the 
presence of his auditory. He had too much respect for the 
tribune to present himself as a rhetorician simply, with 
words. The sense and the manner were of more importance 
with him than the useless facility of stringing words to- 
gether. It was from this meeting he used to come out 
laden with ideas for his improvisations, as also for his 
speeches. 

" The statesman and man of eloquence left nothing to 
chance that he could himself keep for reflection. He felt 
himself speaking before posterity, and he watched from afar 
over his renown." 

" Mirabeau's voice," says Dumont, " was full, manly, and 
sonorous ; it filled the ear and pleased it ; always sustained 
but flexible, he made himself as well heard when lowering it 
as when he raised it ; he could run over comments pro- 
nouncing the final words with so much care that not one 
was ever lost. His usual manner was rather lagging ; he 
began with a little embarrassment, often hesitated, but in a 
way that called forth interest ; one saw him, so to speak, 
seeking the expression most apt ; discarding, choosing, 
weighing the words, till he became animated, and the 
bellows of the forge were in full play. In the moments of 
greatest excitement, the feeling that made him lay stress on 
certain words to express their force prevented his being 
rapid ; he had a great dislike to French volubility, and the 
false zeal which he called the thunder and storms of the 
opera. He never lost the gravity of a senator, and at his 
first beginning his fault perhaps was a little preparation, and 
a little pretention ; he lifted his head with too much pride, 
and sometimes his contempt amounted to insolence. What 
is almost beyond belief is, that they managed little pencilled 
notes to reach him at the foot of the tribune, and sometimes 
in the very tribune itself (as he wrote an infinite number in 
the Assembly), and that he had the power of reading these 
notes whilst speaking, and introducing them into his speech. 
He felt himself beautiful in his ugliness ; when preparing his 



OR A TOR Y IN FRANCE. 3 1 5 



speeches he would proudly display and contemplate in the 
glass his bust, his great size, and his strongly marked features, 
pitted with small-pox. 

" ' The great power of my ugliness,' he said, ' is not 
known ' : and that ugliness he thought beautiful. He was 
very carefully and well dressed ; he had an enormous head 
of hair, artistically arranged, and which increased the size of 
his head. ' When I shake my terribly wild-looking head,' 
he used to say, ' there is no one that dares to interrupt me.' 
He very willingly placed himself before a large glass, looking 
at himself with the greatest pleasure whilst speaking, throw- 
ing his head back and squaring his shoulders. He had that 
peculiarity of vain men, that the very sound of their names 
strikes on them pleasantly, and who can like even to repeat 
it themselves. 

" But in looking for the characteristic trait of his genius, I 
find it after mature reflection in the political sagacity, the 
foreseeing of events, and the knowledge of mankind which 
he appeared to me to possess in a more rare and eminent 
degree than all the other qualities of the mind. In this re- 
spect, he left far behind him the most distinguished of his 
colleagues. There were moments when, he said, he felt as 
if he were a prophet, and he seemed in fact as if he had in- 
spiration of the future. He was not believed, because others 
could not see as far as he did, and because his depression 
was often attributed to his self-love ; but I know at the time 
he prognosticated the greatest ill to the monarchy he had 
the most exalted idea of the nation's destiny in the future." 

He said Necker was the pigmy of the Revolution. 
" Malebranche," he added, " saw everything through God, 
Necker sees everything through Necker ! " He called 
d'Espremenil, Crispin-Catilina ; Lafayette, Cromwell-Gran- 
disson, or Giles-Caesar. Like Voltaire, by reconciling the 
two names which contrasted, he gave the double significa- 
tion of the pretention and helplessness of a living man. He 
had caricature medals struck and put in circulation against 
those he did not esteem, or that he esteemed sufficiently to 
fear. He could not suffer praise to be decreed to men of 



316 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



small genius. These praises seemed to him robberies from 
the men to whom legitimately belonged true glory. 

" Doubts have been raised as to his personal courage," 
again says Dumont. " His youth proved that these doubts 
were calumnies. But he very wisely formed the resolution 
to refuse all single combat during the session of the Northern 
Assembly. ' Our enemies,' he said, ' can find as many bravos 
as they like, and can, by duels, release themselves of all who 
give them umbrage, for were I to kill even ten, I should my- 
self fall as the eleventh.' He was always armed with pistols, 
and his servants also, like himself. He often feared being 
assassinated. He was adored by those who served him : ex- 
ceedingly particular in his dress, he spun out the time by a 
thousand trifles with his valets-de-chambre ; he read little 
and very rapidly ; by a glance he discovered in those thou- 
sands of pages what was new and interesting. He wrote a 
great deal and with great rapidity — a cramped hand ; his 
hand-writing resembled hieroglyphic characters. 

" Copies of his manuscripts and speeches were made in his 
house, with a promptitude which, however, did not satisfy 
his impatience. They were copied one after the other ten or 
twelve times to attain the beauty of style he sought to give 
his discourses. His hours were seized on by the public, who 
beset his doors. His levees were those of a prince. They 
commenced at seven in the morning, and continued without 
interruption up to the hour of his going to the Assembly. 
Even then, his stairs, the court-yard, the entrance to his 
house, the street, were all filled with groups assembled from 
admiration and curiosity. The people perceived in him, 
through instinct, the royalty of human intellect and the only 
true genius of the revolution and the country." 

Although France has produced some excellent orators 
since the days of Mirabeau, she has had none of extraordi- 
nary merit, and in order to avoid swelling the size of the 
present volume, the author has not given a sketch of the 
French orators since the Revolution. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ORATORY IN AMERICA. 

IT is unquestionably true that forensic eloquence should 
be more diligently cultivated by the American bar 
than it is. Framed by the wisest men, cemented by 
the concurrence of succeeding generations, and strengthened 
by the lapse of time, our laws have at length been erected 
into a beautiful system, that embraces almost every imagi- 
nable point of the personal security of the citizen, but, 
extended as they are, and calculated for this beneficial 
purpose, such is the variety of circumstances that daily 
demand its attention, and such consequently are its numer- 
ous and intricate ramifications, that it requires a peculiar 
learning, and a distinct mode of eloquence, to pursue and 
apply them to the wrongs they are intended to redress. 

It is true that the advocate should not indulge too often 
in flights of the imagination. He is addressing the court to 
protect the injured, and to punish the oppressor, by the due 
administration of known and settled laws ; and therefore 
those meretricious arts, whereby the unsteady vulgar alone 
are moved, will be of little avail. But when he considers 
that his auditory are freemen, fulfilling the most awful 
office of free laws ; that their decision may affect the future 
prosperity of thousands ; that they whose life, liberty, or 
prosperity is at stake are citizens, by their birthright en- 
titled to a clear and impartial distribution of justice ; that 
the eyes of many, interested in these rights, are upon the 
court and himself, should not his mind be animated to the 
dignified fervour of a plain and manly eloquence, that seems 

317 



3 1 8 — — ^^hTstoPy^ofora tor y. 

to feel the importance of its own exertions, and that seeks 
not its own elevation in forms and phrases of speech ? 

Immense fortunes are at stake in the cases tried every 
day in our courts ; in other cases the more sacred and valua- 
ble rights of life, liberty, and reputation must be adjudicated. 
What a fine field is here for the unselfish, the conscientious, 
and enlightened advocate, to stand between oppressor and 
oppressed ! 

The earliest specimens of American oratory are chiefly 
characterised by sublimity and patriotism. 

The erection of the magnificent fabric of liberty in this 
country called forth the best efforts of the greatest orators. 

An ample theme was afforded by the Revolutionary con- 
test, for the exhibition of all that is indignant, touching, 
daring, grand, and overwhelming in eloquence, consequently 
some of the most vehement passages that ever stirred the 
human soul are to be found in the speeches of the Revolu- 
tionary orators. Then it was that the orators of freedom 
fearlessly raised their thunder tones against oppression. It 
was the brightest period in the history of British and 
American oratory. 

The period of our Colonial and Revolutionary history 
was, in fact, an era of great superiority in eloquence, at 
home and abroad. England then presented an array of 
orators such as she had known at no other time. In West- 
minster Hall the accomplished Mansfield was constantly 
heard in support of kingly power, while the philosophic and 
argumentative Camden exercised his mighty intellect in 
defence of popular rights. Burke had awoke with all his 
w r ealth of fancy, daring imagination, and comprehensive 
learning. Fox had entered the arena of forensic and sena- 
torial gladiatorship, with his great, glowing heart, and titanic 
passions, all kindled into volcanic heat. Junius, by his sar- 
casm and audacity, stung the loftiest circles into despera- 
tion. Erskine embellished the dark heavens by the rainbow 
tints of his genius ; and Chatham, worthily succeeded by his 
"cloud-compelling" son, ruled the billowy sea of excited 
mind with the majesty of a god. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 319 



James Otis, Patrick Henry, Samuel Adams, Josiah Quincy, 
Joseph Warren, John Hancock, John Adams, and Richard 
Henry Lee, were among the most renowned American 
patriots and orators who flourished during the period of 
which we are speaking. 

In order to exhibit the style of oratory prevalent in those 
days, a few short extracts from the speeches of our Revolu- 
tionary patriots and orators will be given. 

While the glorious banner of Liberty shall continue to 
spread its folds over our Republic, the patriotic sentiments 
of our forefathers cannot be repeated without thrilling 
emotions. 

No true American can read the eloquent speech of Gen- 
eral Warren on the Boston massacre without being deeply 
moved:. ]-^- 

" The voice of your father's blood cries to you from the 
ground, ' My sons, scorn to be slaves ! ' In vain we met the 
frowns of tyrants ; in vain we crossed the boisterous ocean, 
found a New World, and prepared it for the happy residence 
of liberty ; in vain we toiled, in vain we fought, we bled in 
vain, if you our offspring want valor to repel the assaults of 
her invaders ! — stain not the glory of your worthy ancestors ; 
but, like them, resolve never to part with your birthright. 
Be wise in your deliberations, and determined in your exer- 
tions for the preservation of your liberties. Follow not the 
dictates of passion, but enlist yourselves under the sacred 
banner of reason. Use every method in your power to se- 
cure your rights. At least, prevent the curses of posterity 
from being heaped upon your memories. 

" If you, with united zeal and fortitude, oppose the torrent 
of oppression ; if you feel the true fire of patriotism burn- 
ing in your breasts ; if you from your souls despise the most 
gaudy dress that slavery can wear ; if you really prefer the 
lowly cottage (whilst blessed with liberty) to gilded palaces, 
surrounded with the ensigns of slavery, — you may have the 
fullest assurance that tyranny, with her whole accursed 
train, will hide their hideous heads in confusion, shame, and 
despair. If you perform your part, you must have the 



320 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



strongest confidence that the same Almighty Being, who 
protected your pious and venerable forefathers, who enabled 
them to turn a barren wildernesss into a fruitful field, who 
so often made bare his arm for their salvation, will still be 
mindful of you, their offspring. 

" May this Almighty Being graciously preside in all our 
councils. May He direct us to such measures as He Him- 
self shall approve, and be pleased to bless. May we ever be 
a people favored of God. May our land be a land of liberty, 
the seat of virtue, the asylum of the oppressed, a name and 
a praise in the whole earth, until the last shock of time shall 
bury the empires of the world in one common, undistin- 
guished ruin." 

The language of Quincy is similar to this. Just before 
the Revolutionary war he addressed his townsmen in an 
eloquent speech, from which the following is an extract : 
" Oh, my countrymen ! what will our children say when 
they read the history of these times, should they find we 
tamely gave way, without one noble struggle, the most in- 
valuable of earthly blessings? As they drag the galling 
chain, will they not execrate us? If we have any respect 
for things sacred ; any regard to the dearest treasure on 
earth ; if we have one tender sentiment for posterity ; if we 
would not be despised by the world, let us, in the most 
open, solemn manner, and with determined fortitude swear, 
— we will die, — if we cannot live freemen ! " 

John Hancock, on the 5th of March, 1774, made a stirring 
speech to the citizens of Boston, which was concluded with 
the following elevated sentiments : " I have the most ani- 
mating confidence, that the present noble struggle for lib- 
erty will terminate gloriously for America. And let us play 
the man for our God, and for the cities of our God ; while 
we are using the means in our power, let us humbly commit 
our righteous cause to the great Lord of the Universe, who 
loveth righteousness and hateth iniquity. And having se- 
cured the approbation of our hearts, by a faithful and un- 
wearied discharge of our duty to our country, let us joyfully 
leave our concerns in the hands of Him who raiseth up and 
pulleth down the empires and kingdoms of the world." 



OR A TOR Y IN A M ERICA . 3 2 I 



The denunciations which he poured forth in his oration 
on the Boston Massacre are a striking example of Hancock's 
style : " Let this sad tale of death never be told without a 
tear ; let not the heaving bosom cease to burn with a manly 
indignation at the relation of it through the long tracts of 
future time ; let every parent tell the shameful story to his 
listening children till tears of pity glisten in their eyes, or 
boiling passion shakes their tender frames. 

" Dark and designing knaves, murderers, parricides ! how 
dare you tread upon the earth which has drunk the blood of 
slaughtered innocence, shed by your hands? How dare you 
breathe that air which wafted to the ear of heaven the 
groans of those who fell a sacrifice to your accursed ambi- 
tion. But if the laboring earth does not expand her jaws — 
if the air you breathe is not commissioned to be the minister 
of death — yet, hear it, and tremble. The eye of heaven 
penetrates the secret chambers of the soul ; and you, though 
screened from human observation, must be arraigned — must 
lift your hands, red with the blood of those whose death 
you have procured, at the tremendous bar of God." 

Such was the impassioned oratory which fell from the 
lips of the first orators of freedom in this country. 

Hamilton. — Alexander Hamilton was born January the 
nth, 1757, in the island of Nevis, the most beautiful of the 
British West Indies. 

He was early left to buffet the storms of adversity, his 
parents having died when he was very young. In 1769 he 
was placed as a clerk in the counting-house of Mr. Nicholas 
Cruger, a wealthy and highly respected merchant of Santa 
Cruz. 

Hamilton had an aspiring mind, and when only thirteen 
years old, he wrote to a young friend at school as follows: 
" I contemn the grovelling condition of a clerk, to which 
my fortune condemns me, and would willingly risk my life, 
though not my character, to exalt my station ; I mean to 
prepare the way for futurity." 

The sentiments which Hamilton expressed in his letter 
were those of a noble youth, eagerly desirous of achieving 



322 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



fame, but with the strongest attachment to untarnished 
integrity, — guarantees of the splendid success which he 
achieved in after years. 

Hamilton prosecuted his studies, while with Mr. Cruger, 
with the greatest diligence, giving all his spare time to his 
books. Some of his youthful compositions were published, 
and the talent which he displayed in writing them, induced 
his friends to send him to New York for the purpose of 
completing his education. He arrived in this country in 
October, 1772, and was placed at a grammar school in Eliza- 
beth, N. J., under the instruction of Francis Barber, after- 
ward a distinguished officer in the American army. 

Hamilton entered King's (now Columbia) College, where 
he soon ''gave extraordinary displays of genius and energy 
of mind." 

Here, while a student, Hamilton began his glorious politi- 
cal career, performing services for his country which will 
cause his name to shine forever in the annals of our country. 

In college, Hamilton pursued with the greatest assiduity 
those studies which his natural tastes and glowing ambition 
required. His powerful mind, versatile pen, and eloquent 
voice were from the first employed in defending colonial 
opposition to the acts of the British Parliament. 

He wrote, anonymously, in December, 1774, and Febru- 
ary, 1775, several pamphlets in favor of the pacific measures 
of defence recommended by Congress. 

At that early day Hamilton suggested the policy of giving 
encouragement to domestic manufactures, as a sure means 
of lessening the needs of external commerce. " He antici- 
pated ample resources at home, and, among other things, 
observed that several of the southern colonies were so favor- 
able in their soil and climate to the growth of cotton, that 
such a staple alone, with due cultivation, in a year or two 
would afford products sufficient to clothe the whole conti- 
nent. He insisted upon our unalienable right to the steady, 
uniform, unshaken security of constitutional freedom ; to 
the enjoyment of trial by jury ; and to the right of freedom 
from taxation, except by our own immediate representa- 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 323 



tives, and that colonial legislation was an inherent right, 
never to be abandoned or impaired." 

" Freedom or Death," was the motto inscribed on the 
leathern caps which he and his fell'ow-stu dents wore as 
members of the military corps which he organised while at 
college. Hamilton was not only busy promoting measures 
of resistance, but at the same time he mastered the science 
of political economy, the laws of commerce, the balance of 
trade, and the circulating medium, so that when these topics 
came afterward to be discussed, Hamilton was fully pre- 
pared to take his part in the discussion. 

The author regrets that he is not permitted by the nature 
of this work to record all the achievements of the great 
Hamilton in the Cabinet, the Field and the Forum. He can 
only say that Hamilton entered the army in 1776, and be- 
came the inseparable companion of the peerless Washington, 
and continued with him till 1781. He took part in the 
battles of Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth ; and 
he led, at his own request, at the siege of Yorktown, the de- 
tachment which carried by assault one of the strongest 
outworks of the foe. 

The first political speech to a popular assembly was de- 
livered by Hamilton at " the great meeting in the fields," as 
it was called. The object of it was to choose delegates to 
the first Congress. He was at that time a student in King's 
College, and was very juvenile in appearance. As Hamilton 
was unexpectedly called upon, his effort was unpremedi- 
tated, and at first he hesitated and faltered, being awed by 
the immense audience before him. His youthful counte- 
nance, slender form, and novel aspect, awakened curiosity 
and excited universal attention. The " infant orator," as 
they called him, astonished and electrified the vast mul- 
titude. 

After discussing in an able and striking manner the im- 
portant principles involved, he depicted in glowing colours 
the long-continued and constantly aggravated oppressions 
of the mother country. In speaking upon this topic he 
burst forth in a strain of bold and thrilling eloquence. He 



324 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



said, in part : " The sacred rights of mankind are not to be 
rumaged for among old parchments or musty records ; they 
are written as with a sunbeam in the whole volume of human 
nature, by the hand' of Divinity itself, and can never be 
erased or obscured by mortal power." 

Hamilton insisted on the duty of resistance, pointed out 
the means and certainty of success, and described " the 
waves of rebellion sparkling with fire, and washing back on 
the shores of England the wrecks of her power, her wealth, 
and her glory." Under this spontaneous burst of mature 
eloquence from lips so youthful, the vast multitude first sank 
in awe and surprise, and then arose with irrepressible aston- 
ishment. The death-like silence ceased as he closed, and 
repeated huzzas resounded to the heavens. 

At the age of thirty-eight, in 1795, Hamilton resumed the 
practice of the law, in New York, where he continued in 
active professional pursuits until the tragical close of his 
life. 

At that time Hamilton was under the middle size, thin in 
person, but remarkably erect and dignified in his deportment. 
His hair was turned back from his forehead, powdered, and 
collected in a club behind. His complexion was exceedingly 
fair, and varying from this only by the delicate rosiness of his 
cheeks. In form and tint his face was considered uncom- 
monly handsome. When in repose, it bore a serene and 
thoughtful expression ; but when engaged in conversation, 
it immediately assumed an attractive smile. His ordinary 
costume was a blue coat with bright buttons, the skirts being 
unusually long ; he wore a white waistcoat, black silk small 
clothes, and white silk stockings. His appearance and de- 
portment accorded with the exalted distinction which, by his 
stupendous public services, he had attained. His voice was 
engagingly pleasant, and his whole mien commanded the 
respect due to a master-mind. His natural frankness in- 
spired the most affectionate attachment ; and his splendid 
talents, as is usual, elicited the firmest love and the most 
furious hate. One of the ablest writers of modern times 
pays him the following high compliment as a statesman: 



OR A TOR Y IN A M ERICA . 325 



" Hamilton must be classed among the men who have best 
known the vital principles and the fundamental conditions 
of a government ; not of a government such as this (France) 
but of a government worthy of its mission and of its name. 
There is not in the Constitution of the United States an 
element of order, of force, or of duration, which he has not 
powerfully contributed to introduce into it and caused to 
predominate." 

The following account has been given of Hamilton's elo- 
quence : " The eloquence of Hamilton was said to be 
persuasive and commanding ; the more likely to be so, as 
he had no guide but the impulse of a great and rich mind, 
he having had little opportunity to be trained at the bar or 
in popular assemblies. 

Those who could speak of his manner from the best oppor- 
tunities to observe him, in public and in private, concurred 
in pronouncing him to be a frank, amiable, high-minded, 
open-hearted gentlemen. He was capable of inspiring the 
most affectionate attachment ; but he could make those 
whom he opposed, fear and hate him cordially. 

He was capable of intense and effectual application, as is 
abundantly proved by his public labours. But he had a 
rapidity and clearness of perception in which he may not 
have been equalled. One, who knew his habits of study, 
said of him, that when he had a serious object to accom- 
plish, his practice was to reflect on it previously ; and when 
he had gone through his labour, he retired to sleep without 
regard to the hour of the night, and having slept six or seven 
hours, he rose, and having taken strong coffee, seated him- 
self at his table, where he would remain six, seven, or eight 
hours ; and the product of his rapid pen required little cor- 
rection for the press. He was among the few, alike excel- 
lent, whether in speaking or in writing. In private and 
friendly intercourse, he is said to have been exceedingly 
amiable, and to have been affectionately beloved. 

It has been said that he " was the most sagacious and 
laborious of our Revolutionary orators. He anticipated 
time and interrogated history with equal ease and ardour. 



326 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



He explored the archives of his own land, and drew from 
foreign courts the quintessence of their ministerial wisdom. 
He illuminated the councils where Washington presided, 
and with him guarded our youthful nation with the eyes of 
a lynx, and the talons of a vulture." 

Hamilton's political writings will be read with interest 
while time lasts. Aside from the seductive charms of his 
style, the comprehensive and valuable thoughts upon the 
science of government, which they contain, render them 
invaluable to the statesman earnestly desirous of promoting 
the public welfare. 

Fisher Ames said : " That writer would deserve the fame 
of a public benefactor who could exhibit the character of 
Hamilton, with the truth and force that all who intimately 
knew him conceived it ; his example would then take the 
same ascendant as his talents. The portrait alone, how- 
ever exquisitely finished, could not inspire genius where it 
is not ; but if the world should again have possession of so 
rare a gift, it might awaken it where it sleeps, as by a spark 
from Heaven's own altar; for surely if there is anything like 
divinity in man, it is in his admiration for virtue. 

" The country deeply laments when it turns its eyes back 
and sees what Hamilton was ; but my soul stiffens with 
despair when I think what Hamilton would have been. It 
is not as Apollo, enchanting the shepherds with his lyre, 
that we deplore him ; it is as Hercules, treacherously, slain 
in the midst of his unfinished labours, leaving the world 
over run with monsters." 

It is unnecessary to give an account of the fatal duel by 
which Hamilton lost his life in 1804. The facts are univer- 
sally known. 

The following extract will serve to illustrate the style of 
Hamilton's political oratory. It is on the Constitution of 
the United States : 

" After all our doubts, our suspicions, and speculations, on 
the subject of Government, we must return, at last, to this 
important truth, — that, when we have formed a Constitution 
upon free principles, when we have given a proper balance 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. $2J 



to the different branches of Administration, and fixed Repre- 
sentation upon pure and equal principles, we may, with 
safety, furnish it with the powers necessary to answer, in the 
most ample manner, the purposes of Government. The 
great desiderata are a free Representation, and mutual 
checks. When these are obtained, all our apprehensions of 
the extent of powers are unjust and imaginary. What, then, 
is the structure of this Constitution ? One branch of the 
Legislature is to be elected by the People, — by the same 
People who choose your State Representatives. Its mem- 
bers are to hold their office two years, and then return to 
their constitutents. Here, Sir, the People govern. Here 
they act by their immediate Representatives. You have 
also a Senate, constituted by your State Legislatures, — by 
men in whom you place the highest confidence, — and form- 
ing another Representative branch. Then, again, you have 
an Executive Magistrate, created by a form of election 
which merits universal admiration. 

" In the form of this Government, and in the mode of Leg- 
islation, you find all the checks which the greatest politicans 
and the best writers have ever conceived. What more can 
reasonable men desire ? Is there any one branch in which 
the whole Legislative and Executive powers are lodged ? 
No ! The Legislative authority is lodged in three distinct 
branches, properly balanced ; the Executive authority is 
divided between two branches ; and the Judicial is still 
reserved for an independent body, who hold their office 
during good behaviour. This organisation is so complex, so 
skilfully contrived, that it is next to impossible that an 
impolitic or wicked measure should pass the great scrutiny 
with success. Now, what do Gentlemen mean, by coming 
forward and declaiming against this Government? Why 
do they say we ought to limit its powers, to disable it, and 
to destroy its capacity of blessing the People? Has phi- 
losophy suggested, has experience taught, that such a Gov- 
ernment ought not to be trusted with everything necessary 
for the good of society ? Sir, when you have divided and 
nicely balanced the departments of Government ; when you 



328 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



have strongly connected the virtue of your rulers with their 
interests ; when, in short, you have rendered your system 
as perfect as human forms can be, — you must place confi- 
dence ; you must give power." 

Hamilton won for himself, the most imperishable renown. 
He will always be affectionately remembered by the lovers 
of liberty throughout the world, as the soldier of the revolu- 
tion — the friend and confidant of Washington — the founder 
of the American system of finance — the enlightened states- 
man — the great counsellor — the magnificent orator— and the 
man of probity, tried and spotless. 

Henry. — Patrick Henry was born on the 29th day of May, 
1736, in the County of Hanover, and Colony of Virginia. 

Mr. Henry's youth gave no presage of his future greatness. 
He was idle and lazy, and spent most of his time in fishing, 
hunting, and playing the violin. At the age of sixteen he 
was established in trade by his father, but through idleness, 
the love of music and the charms of the chase and a readi- 
ness to trust every one, he soon became bankrupt. While a 
merchant he studied human nature continually. Not in 
reference to the honesty and solvency of his customers, but 
in relation to the structure of their minds and opinions. 

By endeavouring, constantly, to make political, and other 
subjects understood by his illiterate hearers, he became a 
master of that clear and simple style which forms the best 
vehicle of thought to a popular assembly. He was also in- 
structed by these exercises in those topics of persuasion by 
which men are most certainly to be moved, and in the kind 
of imagery and structure of language which were the best 
fitted to strike and agitate their hearts. 

Mr. Henry studied law and was admitted to the bar at 
the age of twenty-four. 

' The controversy in 1763, between the clergy, and the 
Legislature of Virginia, touching the stipend of the former, 
was the occasion when Mr. Henry made his first public 
appearance, as a lawyer. 

Says Mr. Wirt : " On this first trial of his strength, he 
rose very awkwardly, and faltered much in his exordium. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 329 



The people hung their heads at so unpromising a commence- 
ment, the clergy were observed to exchange sly looks with 
each other, and his father is described as having almost sunk 
with confusion from his seat. But these feelings were of 
short duration, and soon gave place to others, of a very dif- 
ferent character. For, now were these wonderful faculties 
which he possessed for the first time developed ; and now 
was first witnessed that mysterious and almost supernatural 
transformation of appearance, which the fire of his own elo- 
quence never failed to work in him. For, as his mind rolled 
along and began to glow from its own action, all the exuvice 
of the clown seemed to shed themselves spontaneously. 
His attitude by degrees became erect and lofty. The spirit 
of his genius awakened all his features. His countenance 
shone with a nobleness and grandeur which it had never 
before exhibited. There was a lightning in his eyes which 
seemed to rive the spectator. His action became bold, 
graceful, and commanding ; and in the tones of his voice, 
but more especially in his emphasis, there was a peculiar 
charm, a magic, of which any one who ever heard him will 
speak as soon as he is named, but of which no one can give 
any adequate description. They can only say that it struck 
upon the ear and upon the heart, in a manner which lan- 
guage cannot tell. Add to all these his underworking fancy, 
and the peculiar phraseology in which he clothed its images ; 
for he painted to the heart with a force that almost petrified 
it. In the language of those who heard him on this occasion, 
1 he made their blood run cold, and their hair to rise on end.' 
" It will not be difficult for any one who ever heard this 
most extraordinary man, to believe the whole account of 
this transaction which is given by his surviving hearers ; and 
from their account, the court-house of Hanover County 
must have exhibited, on this occasion, a scene as picturesque 
as has ever been witnessed in real life. They say that the 
people, whose countenance had fallen as he arose, had heard 
but a very few sentences before they began to look up ; 
then to look at each other in surprise, as if doubting the 
evidence of their own senses ; then attracted by some strong 



330 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



gesture, struck by some majestic attitude, fascinated by the 
spell of his eye, the charm of his emphasis, and the varied 
and commanding expression of his countenance, they could 
look away no more. In less than twenty minutes they 
might be seen in every part of the house, on every bench, in 
every window, stooping forward from their stands, in death- 
less silence ; their features fixed in amazement and awe ; all 
their senses listening and riveted upon the speaker, as if to 
catch the last strain of some heavenly visitant. The mock- 
ery of the clergy was soon turned into alarm ; their triumph 
into confusion and despair ; and at one burst of his rapid 
and overwhelming invective, they fled from the bench in 
precipitation and terror. As for the father, such was his 
surprise, such his amazement, such his rapture, .that, for- 
getting where he was, and the character which he was 
filling, tears of ecstacy streamed down his cheeks, without 
the power or inclination to repress them. The jury seemed 
to have been completely bewildered ; for, thoughtless even 
of the admitted right of the plaintiff, they had scarcely left 
the bar when they returned with a verdict of one penny 
damages. A motion was made for a new trial ; but the court, 
too, had now lost the equipose of their judgment, and over- 
ruled the motion by a unanimous vote. The verdict and 
judgment overruling the motion, were followed by redoubled 
acclamations from within and without the house. The 
people, who had with difficulty kept their hands off their 
champion, from the motion of closing his harangue, no 
sooner saw the fate of the cause finally sealed, than they 
seized him at the bar, and in spite of his own exertions, and 
the continued cry of ' order ' from the sheriffs and the court, 
they bore him out of the court-house, and raising him upon 
their shoulders, carried him about the yard in a kind of 
electioneering triumph." 

As a member of the House of Burgesses in 1765, Mr. 
Henry introduced his resolutions against the Stamp Act, 
which proved the opening of the American Revolution in 
the colony of Virginia. It w T as in the midst of the debate 
upon those resolutions that he " exclaimed, in a voice of 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA . 3 3 1 



thunder and with the look of a god, ' Caesar had his Brutus 
— Charles the First his Cromwell — and George the Third — 
[" Treason " cried the Speaker ; " treason ! treason ! " echoed 
from every part of the house. Henry faltered not for an 
instant, but rising to a loftier attitude, and fixing on the 
Speaker an eye of the most determined fire, finished his sen- 
tence with the firmest emphasis] — may profit by thei? m example. 
If this be treason, make the most of it.' " 

At Philadelphia, in Carpenter's Hall, the first Congress 
met on the 4th of September, 1774. This assembly was 
composed of the most prominent men of the several col- 
onies, on the wisdom of whose councils was staked the 
liberties of the colonists, and their posterity. The first 
meeting is described as " awfully solemn. They had been 
called together to consider a subject of incalculable magni- 
tude." Mr. Henry rose slowly, as if borne down with the 
weight of the subject, and, after faltering, according to his 
habit, through a most impressive exordium, he launched 
gradually into a recital of colonial wrongs. Rising, as he 
advanced, with the grandeur of his subject, and glowing at 
length with all the majesty and expectation of the occasion, 
his speech seemed more than that of mortal man. There 
was no rant, no rhapsody, no labour of the understanding, no 
straining of the voice, no confusion of the utterance. His 
countenance was erect, his eye steady, his action noble, his 
enunciation clear and firm, his mind poised on its centre, his 
views of his subject comprehensive and great, and his im- 
agination coruscating with a magnificence and a variety 
which struck even that assembly with amazement and awe. 
He sat down amid murmurs of astonishment and applause, 
and as he had been proclaimed the greatest orator of Vir- 
ginia, he was now, on every hand, admitted to be the first 
orator of America. 

Mr. Henry in his youth was indifferent to dress, but he 
became more refined as he rose in experience and influence 
His appearance, however, was at all times wonderfully im- 
pressive. " He was nearly six feet high, spare and raw- 
boned, with a slight stoop of his shoulders. His complexion 



332 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



was dark and sallow ; his natural expression grave, thoughtful 
and penetrating. He was gifted with a strong and musical 
voice, often rendered doubly fascinating by the mild splen- 
dours of his brilliant blue eyes. When animated he spoke 
with the greatest variety of manner and tone. . . . 

u Gleams of passion inter-penetrating the masses of his logic, 
rendered him a spectacle of delight to the friendly spectator, 
or of dread to his antagonist. He was careless in dress, 
and sometimes intentionally and extravagantly awkward in 
movement ; but always, like the phosphorescent stone at 
Bologna, he was less rude than glowing. He could be 
vehement, insinuating, humorous and sarcastic by turns, 
and to every sort of style he gave the highest effect. He 
was an orator by nature and of the highest class, combining 
all those traits of figure and intellect, action and utterance, 
which have indissolubly linked his brilliant name with the 
history of his country's emancipation." 

Patrick Henry had great moral courage, and moral courage 
is the true basis of oratorical success. In order to be effec- 
tive, the orator must think vigorously, and say what he 
thinks, fearlessly. When the welfare of his country demands 
it, he must exhibit the courage of the soldier on the field of 
battle, and express his opinions on all subjects at the hazard 
of his life, or of his earthly possessions. He is not worthy 
to be called an orator, in the true sense of the word, unless 
he has this patriotic heroism and firmness. 

Mr. Henry was happily endowed with that rich imagination 
which gives vitality to the body of thought, and which is 
essential to the success of the great orator. He was deeply 
imbued with that vehemence of conviction, that oratorical 
action, which modulates the tones, tinges the visage with 
irresistible power, and suggests to the hearer more than 
articulated language can express. 

From his magnificent speech advising resistance to British 
aggression, delivered on the 23d of March, 1775, in the old 
church at Richmond, the following is an extract : 

" Mr. President : It is natural to man to indulge in the 
illusions of Hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 333 



painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she 
transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, en- 
gaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty. Are we 
disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see 
not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly 
concern our temporal salvation ? For my part, whatever 
anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole 
truth, — to know the worst and to provide for it ! 

" I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided ; and 
that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judg- 
ing of the future but by the past. And, judging by the past, 
I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the 
British ministry, for the last ten years, to justify those hopes 
with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace them- 
selves and the House ? Is it that insiduous smile with which 
our petition .has been lately received ? Trust it not, sir ; it 
will prove a snare to your feet ! Suffer not yourselves to be 
betrayed with a kiss ! Ask yourselves how this gracious 
reception of our petition comports with those warlike pre- 
parations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are 
fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconcili- 
ation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be rec- 
onciled, that force must be called in to win back our love ? 

" Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the imple- 
ments of war and subjugation ; — the last arguments to which 
kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial 
array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can 
gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it ? Has 
Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to 
call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, 
sir, she has none. They are meant for us ; they can be meant 
for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us 
those chains which the British ministry have been so long 
forging. And what have we to oppose to them ? — Shall we try 
argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten 
years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject ? 
Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of 
which it is capable ; but it has been all in vain. 



334 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication ? 
What terms shall we find which have not already been ex- 
hausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves 
longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, 
to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have peti- 
tioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have 
prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored 
its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the minis- 
try and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, our 
remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, 
our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been 
spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. 

" In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond 
hope of peace and reconciliation ? There is no longer any 
reason for hope. If we wish to be free, if we mean to pre- 
serve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have 
been so long contending, — if we mean not basely to abandon 
the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, 
and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until 
the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, — we 
must fight ; I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to 
arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us! " 

Otis.— James Otis descended in the fifth generation from 
John Otis, who came over from England at a very early 
period and was one of the first settlers of Hingham, Massa- 
chusetts. He took the freeman's oath on the 3d of March, 
1635. By his mother's side he was connected with the first 
founders of Plymouth Colony, who arrived in the Mayflower 
in 1620. 

He was born at Great Marshes, in what is now called West 
Barnstable, February 5, 1725. Says one of his biographers: 
" During the first two years of his college life, his natural 
ardour and vivacity made his society much courted by the 
elder students, and engaged him more in amusement than 
in study ; but he changed his course in the junior year, and 
began thenceforward to give indications of great talent and 
power of application." Although at times grave and sedate, 
sometimes he would discover the wit and humour which 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 335 

formed afterwards striking ingredients in his character. A 
small party of young people having assembled one day at 
his father's house, when he was at home during a college 
vacation, he had taken a slight part in their sports, when, 
after much persuasion, they induced him to play a country 
dance for them with his violin, on which instrument he then 
practised a little. The set was made up, and after they 
were fairly engaged, he suddenly stopped, and holding up 
his fiddle and bow, exclaimed : ' So Orpheus fiddled, and 
so danced the brutes ! ' and then tossing the instrument 
aside, rushed into the garden, followed by the disap- 
pointed revellers, who were obliged to convert their intended 
dance into a frolicsome chase after the fugitive musician. 

The important events preceding and connected with the 
American Revolution attracted the attention of Mr. Otis. 
In 1760, George the Second died, and his grandson reigned 
in his stead. The conquest of Canada was completed, and 
it was rumoured that the colonists were to be deprived of 
their charters and formed into royal governments. Edicts 
were issued by the sovereign which enabled the king's col- 
lectors to compel all sheriffs and constables to attend and 
aid them in breaking open houses, stores, cellars, ships' 
trunks, etc., to search for goods which it was supposed had 
not paid the unrighteous tax imposed by parliament. The 
good-w r ill of the colonists was wanted no longer to advance 
the prosecution of the war, and Writs of Assistance were 
undertaken through the influence of the royal governor and 
others. Application was first made for those writs at Salem, 
Massachusetts. Stephen Sewall, who was then Chief-Justice 
of the Superior Court, expressed great doubt of the legality 
of such writs, and of the authority of the court to grant 
them. The other judges were of the same opinion. The 
matter, however, was postponed until the next term of the 
court at Boston, in February, 1761. Mr. Otis undertook to 
argue against the writs at the request of the colonists, and 
met in conflict his law-teacher, Mr. Gridley, then Attorney- 
General. Mr. Otis was Advocate-General of the Colony of 
Massachusetts when the order relating to Writs of Assistance 



336 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



came from England. Deeming them illegal, he refused to 
enforce them. This was the case when Mr. Otis first became 
famous in history. '* The fire in the flint shines not till it 
be struck." James Otis distinguished himself as the bold, 
brilliant, victorious champion of Colonial rights. He gave 
free rein to his oratorical powers and soared into regions of 
patriotic principles, new both to himself and the world. 

Says John Adams, in his sketch of the scene : " Otis was a 
flame of fire. With a promptitude of classical allusions, and 
a depth of research, a rapid summary of historical events and 
dates, a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic glance of 
his eyes into futurity, and a rapid torrent of impetuous elo- 
quence, he hurried away all before him. The seeds of patriots 
and heroes were then and there sown. Every man of an 
immensely crowded audience appeared to me to go away, 
as I did, ready to take arms against Writs of Assistance. 
Then and there was the first scene of the first act of opposi- 
tion to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and 
there the child Independence was born. In fifteen years, 
that is in 1776, he grew up to manhood and declared himself 
free." The principles laid down by Otis with such profound 
learning could not be subverted. The decision of the court 
was as follows : " The court has considered the subject of 
Writs of Assistance, and can see no foundation for such a 
writ ; but as the practice in England is not known, it has 
been thought best to continue the question to the next term, 
that in the meantime opportunity may be given to know the 
result." No judgment was pronounced at the next term, 
and nothing was said about Writs of Assistance. Few of 
the rhetorical productions of Mr. Otis are now extant. None 
of his speeches were fully recorded. As an orator his me- 
morials are rather traditionary than actual. The admiration 
which his countrymen had for him was boundless, and his 
memory will always be revered. 

His eloquence was bold, witty, pungent, and practical. He 
communed with other minds, but more with his own. He 
was learned, and yet original, courteous in debate, and al- 
ways treating the opinions of his adversaries with the respect 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 337 



they deserved ; but he was bold and daring in his own inves- 
tigations. He always listened to appeals which were con- 
ciliating, and motives that were just. In the presence, 
however, of arrogance and oppression, he was as firm as a 
rock. The following extract from his Vindication of the 
Colony of Massachusetts in 1762, will illustrate both the bold- 
ness and wit of Mr. Otis : 

" In order to excuse, if not altogether justify, the offen- 
sive passage, and clear it from ambiguity, I beg leave to 
premise two or three data : 1. God made all men naturally 
equal. 2. The ideas of earthly superiority, pre-eminence, and 
grandeur, are educational, at least, acquired, not innate. 3. 
Kings were, (and plantation governors should be), made for 
the good of the people, and not the people for them. 4. No 
government has a right to make hobby-horses, asses, and 
slaves of the subject ; nature having made sufficient of the 
two former for all the lawful purposes of man, from the 
harmless peasant in the field, to the most refined politician 
in the cabinet, but none of the last, which infallibly proves 
that they are unnecessary." 

Mr. Otis always forgot himself in the subjects he dis- 
cussed. He explored all the resources at his command, and 
was tireless in preparation. He appeared to be completely 
absorbed by his theme while speaking, and thought as little 
of the skill he should display as an orator, as one fighting 
for his life thinks of the grace he shall exhibit in the flourish 
of his weapons. He was enthusiastic, sincere, forceful, 
natural, and spoke the language of a powerful mind under 
high but well regulated excitement. 

It may be said of Otis as it was of John Marshall : " He 
was one of those rare beings that seem to be sent among 
men from time to time, to keep alive our faith in humanity." 
He was finely formed, and had an intelligent countenance; 
his eye, voice, and manner were very impressive. The ele- 
vation of his mind and the known integrity of his purposes, 
enabled him to speak with decision and dignity, and com- 
manded the respect as well as the admiration of his audi- 
ence. His eloquence showed but little imagination, yet it 



338 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



was instinct with the fire of passion. His oratory was ex- 
tremely serviceable to the Colonists. He charmed the timid 
and inspired the weak, boldly attacked and subdued the 
haughty, and enthralled the prejudiced. 

John Adams said of him : " I have been young, and now 
am old, and I solemnly say, I have never known a man 
whose love of his country was more ardent and sincere ; 
never one who suffered so much ; never one, whose services 
for any ten years of his life, were so important and essential 
to the cause of his country, as those of Mr. Otis, from 1760 
to 1770." 

A few weeks previous to his death Otis said to his sister, 
" I hope when God Almighty in his righteous providence, 
shall take me out of time into eternity, that it will be by a 
flash of lightning." His prayer was heard and answered. 
On the 28th of May, 1783, during a heavy thunder-storm, 
he, with a greater part of the family with which he resided 
had entered the house to wait until the shower should have 
passed. Otis, with his cane in one hand, stood in the front 
entry near a door, and was telling a story to the assembled 
group when a terrible explosion took place, which seemed 
to shake the solid earth, and he fell without a struggle, or 
an utterance, instantaneously dead. He had often expressed 
a desire to die as he did. 

Ames. — Fisher Ames was born at Dedham, in Norfolk 
County, Massachusetts, on the 9th of April, 1758. He was 
descended from one of the oldest families in the province. 

Ames exhibited an ardent fondness for classical literature 
at an early age. He commenced the study of Latin when 
he was only six years of age. At Harvard College to which 
he was admitted in the year 1770, and from which he gradu- 
ated in 1774, shortly after the completion of his twelfth 
year, he was noted for his application and industry. His 
vivacity and animation, and his geniality and modesty made 
him a general favourite. 

He joined a debating society while at college and it 
was early observed that he coveted the glory of eloquence. 
In his declamation before this society, he was remarked for 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 339 



the energy and propriety with which he delivered such 
specimens of impassioned oratory as his genius led him to 
select. His compositions at this time bore the characteristic 
stamps which has always marked his speaking and writing. 
They were sententious and full of ornament. 

After his graduation Mr. Ames devoted himself to teach- 
ing, giving his leisure to the study of the classics, ancient 
and modern history, and English literature, especially 
poetry. Milton and Shakespeare were his favourite authors. 
He was attentive, also, to the cultivation of his talents in 
composition and oratory. He laid his favourite authors 
under heavy contributions for the purpose of enriching and 
ornamenting his mind. Nearly all of the splendid pas- 
sages which they contain, he committed to memory, and 
would sometimes recite them for the entertainment of his 
friends. 

This course of reading enabled him to furnish that fund 
of materials for speaking and writing which he possessed in 
singular abundance, his remarkable fertility of allusion, and 
his ability to evolve a train of imagery adapted to every 
subject of which he treated. 

Mr. Ames was admitted to the bar in 1781. 

Mr. Ames, soon after his admission to the bar, wrote 
several articles on political topics which attracted the atten- 
tion of the leading men in his state. 

He was elected in 1789 a member of the First Congress 
under the Constitution, and remained a member of that 
body during the eight years of Washington's administration. 

He delivered his celebrated speech on the appropriation 
for Jay's Treaty in 1796 — a production of the deepest pathos 
and richest eloquence. 

Dr. Charles Caldwell thus speaks of Ames's oratory : " He 
was decidedly one of the most splendid rhetoricians of the 
age. Two of his speeches, in a special manner — that on 
Jay's Treaty, and that usually called the ' Tomahawk 
Speech ' (because it included some resplendent passages on 
Indian massacres) — were the most brilliant and fascinating 
specimens of eloquence I have ever heard ; yet have I list- 



340 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ened to some of the most celebrated in the British Parlia- 
ment — among others to Wilberforce, and Mackintosh, 
Plunket, Brougham, and Canning; and Dr. Priestly who 
was familiar with the oratory of Pitt the father, and Pitt the 
son, and also with that of Burke and Fox, made to myself the 
acknowledgment that, in his own words, * the speech of Ames, 
on the British treaty, was the most bewitching piece of 
parliamentary oratory he had ever listened to.' ' 

In person Mr. Ames was above middle stature and well 
formed. His countenance was very handsome, and his eye 
blue in colour, and expressive. His features were not strongly 
marked. His forehead was neither high nor broad. His 
mouth was beautifully shaped, and was one of his finest 
features ; his hair was black, and he wore it short, and in the 
latter years of his life unpowdered. He was exceedingly 
erect in walking, and when speaking he raised his head 
slightly. It is said that his expression was usually mild and 
complacent when in debate, and if he meant to be severe, it 
was seen in good-natured sarcasm, rather than in acrimonious 
words. 

Mr. Ames died in 1808. 

On the sanctity of treaties, Mr. Ames said : 

" We are either to execute this treaty or break our faith. 
To expatiate on the value of public faith may pass with 
some men for declamation ; to such men I have nothing to 
say. To others, I will urge, can any circumstance mark 
upon a people more turpitude and debasement ? Can any- 
thing tend more to make men think themselves mean, — or 
to degrade to a lower point their estimation of virtue, and 
their standard of action ? It would not merely demoralise 
mankind ; it tends to break all the ligaments of society; to 
dissolve that mysterious charm which attracts individuals to 
the nation ; and to inspire, in its stead, a repulsive sense of 
shame and disgust. 

" What is patriotism ? Is it a narrow affection for the 
spot where a man was born? Are the very clods where we 
tread entitled to this ardent preference, because they are 
greener? No, sir ; this is not the character of the virtue. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 34 1 



It soars higher for its object. It is an extended self-love, 
mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself 
with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey 
the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In 
their authority we see, not the array of force and terror, but 
the venerable image of our country's honour. Every good 
citizen makes that honour his own, and cherishes it, not 
only as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk his life 
in its defense, and is conscious that he gains protection 
while he gives it ; for what rights of a citizen will be deemed 
inviolable, when a State renounces the principles that con- 
stitute their security? Or, if his life should not be invaded, 
what would its enjoyments be, in a country odious in the 
eye of strangers, and dishonoured in his own ? Could he 
look with affection and veneration to such a country as his 
parent? The sense of having one would die within him : he 
would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, — and 
justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man 
in his native land. I see no exception to the respect that is 
paid among nations to the law of good faith. It is the 
philosophy of politics, the religion of governments. It is 
observed by barbarians. A whiff of tobacco-smoke, or a 
string of beads, gives not merely binding force, but sanctity, 
to treaties. Even in Algiers, a truce may be bought for 
money ; but, when ratified, even Algiers is too wise, or too 
just, to disown and annul its obligation." 

On the British treaty in 1796, Mr. Ames said : 
" Are the posts of our frontier to remain forever in the 
possession of Great Britain ? Let those who reject them, 
when the treaty offers them to our hands, say, if they 
choose, they are of no importance. Will the tendency to 
Indian hostilities be contested by any one? Experience 
gives the answer. Am I reduced to the necessity of proving 
this point ? Certainly the very men who charged the Indian 
war on the detention of the posts will call for no other proof 
than the recital of their own speeches. ' Until the posts are 
restored,' they exclaimed, 'the treasury and the frontiers 
must bleed.' Can gentlemen now say that an Indian peace, 



342 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



without the posts, will prove firm ? No, sir, it will not be 
peace, but a sword ; it will be no better than a lure to draw 
victims within the reach of the tomahawk. 

" On this theme my emotions are unutterable. If I could 
find words for them, if my powers bore any proportion to 
my zeal, I would swell my voice to such a note of remon- 
strance, it should reach every log-house beyond the moun- 
tains. I would say to the inhabitants, Wake from your 
false security ! Your cruel dangers, your more cruel appre- 
hensions, are soon to be removed. The wounds, yet un- 
healed, are to be torn open again. In the daytime, your 
path through the woods will be ambushed. The darkness 
of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. 
You are a father, — the blood of your sons shall fatten your 
corn-fields ! You are a mother, — the war-whoop shall wake 
the sleep of the cradle ! 

" Who will say that I exaggerate the tendencies of our 
measures ? Will any one answer, by a sneer, that all this is 
idle preaching? Will any one deny that we are bound, and, 
I would hope, to good purpose, by the most solemn sanc- 
tions of duty, for the vote we give ? Are despots alone to 
be reproached for unfeeling indifference to the tears and 
blood of their subjects? Are republicans irresponsible? 
Can you put the dearest interest of society at risk, without 
guilt, and without remorse? It is vain to offer, as an ex- 
cuse, that public men are not to be reproached for the evils 
that may happen to ensue from their measures. This is 
very true, where they are unforeseen or inevitable. Those 
I have depicted are not unforeseen ; they are so far from 
inevitable, we are going to bring them into being by our 
vote. We choose the consequences, and become as justly 
answerable for them as for the measure that we know will 
produce them. 

" By rejecting the posts, we light the savage fires, we bind 
the victims. This day we undertake to render account 
to the widows and orphans whom our decision will make ; to 
the wretches that will be roasted at the stake ; to our 
country, and, I do not deem it too serious to say, to con- 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 343 



science and to God, we are answerable ; and, if duty be any- 
thing more than a word of imposture, if conscience be not 
a bugbear, we are preparing to make ourselves as wretched 
as our country. There is no mistake in this case. There 
can be none. Experience has already been the prophet of 
events, and the cries of our future victims have already 
reached us. The Western inhabitants are not a silent and 
uncomplaining sacrifice. The voice of humanity issues from 
the shade of the wilderness. It exclaims that, while one 
hand is held up to reject this treaty, the other grasps a 
tomahawk. It summons our imagination to the scenes that 
will open. It is no great effort of the imagination to con- 
ceive that events so near are already begun. I can fancy 
that I listen to the yells of savage vengeance and the shrieks 
of torture ! Already they seem to sigh in the Western 
wind ! Already they mingle with every echo from the 
mountains ! " 

Randolph. — John Randolph, of Roanoke, one of the 
most remarkable men that ever lived in any age, was born 
on the 2d day of June, 1773, near Petersburg, Virginia. 
His extraordinary eloquence early fastened the attention of 
his countrymen upon him. 

Mr. Randolph made his first appearance, in public life, in 
1799, as a candidate for Congress. He was indebted, for his 
success, to his ability, as he was without family influence in 
his district, and a mere boy in appearance. Patrick Henry, 
the popular statesman and orator, was his opponent. An 
anecdote is related, which is characteristic of both com- 
batants. Mr. Randolph was addressing the populace in 
answer to Mr. Henry, when a friend said to the latter : 
" Come, Henry, let us go ; it is not worth while to listen to 
that boy." Mr. Henry generously said in reply : " Stay, my 
friend, there is an old man's head on that boy's shoulders." 

Although John Randolph was devoted to America, he 
also loved England. Speaking of Randolph's opposition to 
war between England and this country Baldwin says : 

" But, more especially, Randolph did not desire war with 
England. He had no prejudices against England. He saw 



344 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



and condemned her faults. He did not justify her conduct 
toward us. But he remembered that we were of the blood 
and bone of her children. He remembered that we spoke 
her language, and that we were connected with her by the 
strongest commercial ties and interests ; that, though we 
had fought her through a long and bloody war, yet we had 
fought her by the light of her own principles ; that her own 
great men had cheered us on in the fight ; and that the 
body of the English nation were with us against a corrupt 
and venal ministry, when we took up arms against their and 
our tyrants. He remembered that from England we had 
inherited all the principles of liberty which lie at the basis 
of our government — freedom of speech and of the press ; 
the Habeas Corpus; trial by jury; representation with 
taxation ; and the great body of our laws. He reverenced 
her for what she had done in the cause of human progress, 
and for the Protestant religion ; for her achievements in arts 
and arms ; for her lettered glory ; for the light shed on the 
human mind by her master writers ; for the blessings show- 
ered by her great philanthropists upon the world. 

" He saw her in a new phase of character. Whatever 
was left of freedom in the old world, had taken shelter in 
that island, as man, during the deluge, in the ark. 

" She opposed the only barrier now left to the sway of 
unlimited empire, by a despot, whom she detested as one of 
the most merciless and remorseless tyrants that ever scourged 
this planet. Deserted of all other men and nations, she 
was not dismayed. She did not even seek — such was the 
spirit of her prodigious pride — to avoid the issue. She de- 
fied it. She dared it — was eager — fevered — panting for it. 
She stood against the arch-conqueror's power, as her own 
sea-girt isle slants in the ocean — calm amidst the storm and 
the waves that blow and break harmlessly on the shore. 
She was largely indebted, but she poured out money like 
water. Her people were already heavily taxed, but she 
quadrupled the taxes. She taxed everything that supports 
or embellishes life, all the elements of nature, everything of 
human necessity or luxury, from the cradle to the coffin. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 345 



The shock was about to come. The long guns of the cinque 
ports were already loaded, and the matches blazing, to 
open upon the expectant enemy, as he descended upon her 
coasts. We came as a new enemy into the field. It was 
natural to expect her, in the face of the old foe, thought by 
so many to be himself an over-match for her, to hasten to 
make terms with us, rather than have another enemy upon 
her. No ! She refused, in the agony and stress of danger, 
to do what she refused in other times. She turned to us 
the same look of resolute and imperturbable defiance — with 
some touch of friendly reluctance in it, it may be — which 
she turned to her ancient foe. As she stood in her armour, 
glittering like a war-god, beneath the lion banner, under 
which we had fought with her at the Long Meadows, at 
Fort Du Quesne, and on the Heights of Abraham, Randolph 
could not — for his soul, he could not find it in his heart to 
strike her then." 

His sentiments cost him his seat in Congress, but, says 
Mr. Baldwin : " Without a murmur he bowed his head to 
the stroke and went into retirement." 

Randolph was one of the most brilliant orators that 
America has produced. He was sometimes bitter and sar- 
castic to his foes, but he was an open foe. His severest at- 
tacks were made in public — in the face of day and in the 
presence of his enemies. 

In polite learning he was accomplished beyond the most 
of the literati of his country. He was, beyond question, the 
wittiest man of his time. 

He made the resources of others subservient to his pur- 
poses, but he gave a new value to the sentence quoted, and 
there was as much genius in the selection and application, 
as in the conception and expression of the idea. He usually 
spoke without preparation, and it is said his speeches de- 
pended much upon the state of his nervous system. He 
was, therefore, an unequal speaker, sometimes speaking 
with the greatest felicity, and sometimes with diminished 
power. 

He was an honest and a conscientious man, and his mind 



346 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

was pure and elevated. His principles, — he never deserted. 
He never pandered to the passions of the mob. 

Mr. Randolph was a descendant, in the seventh generation, 
from the celebrated Pocahontas, the daughter of Powhatan, 
the great Indian chief. 

Mr. Randolph died in 1833, in Philadelphia. 

As a specimen of his style, the following extract from his 
speech on British influence, delivered in 181 1, is given : 

" Imputations of British influence have been uttered 
against the opponents of this war. Against whom are 
these charges brought ? Against men who, in the war of 
the Revolution, were in the Councils of the Nation, or 
fighting the battles of your country ! And by whom are 
these charges made ? By runaways, chiefly from the British 
dominions, since the breaking out of the French troubles. 
The great autocrat of all the Russias receives the homage 
of our high consideration. The Dey of Algiers and his 
divan of pirates are very civil, good sort of people, with 
whom we find no difficulty in maintaining the relations of 
peace and amity. ' Turks and Infidels,' — Melimelli or the 
Little Turtle, — barbarians and savages of every clime and 
colour, are welcome to our arms. With chiefs of banditti, 
negro, or mulatto, we can treat and can trade. Name, how- 
ever, but England, and all our antipathies are up in arms 
against her. Against whom ? Against those whose blood 
runs in our veins ; in common with whom we claim Shake- 
speare, and Newton, and Chatham, for our countrymen . 
whose form of government is the freest on earth, our own, 
only, excepted ; from whom every valuable principle of our 
own institutions has been borrowed, — representation, jury 
trial, voting system, writ of habeas corpus, our whole civil 
and criminal jurisprudence ; — against our fellow-Protestants, 
identified in blood, in language, in religion, with ourselves. 

" In what school did the worthies of our land — the Wash- 
ington, Henrys, Hancocks, Franklins, Rutledges, of America 
— learn those principles of civil liberty which were so nobly 
asserted by their wisdom and valour ? American resistance 
to British usurpation has not been more warmly cherished 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA. 347 



by these great men and their compatriots, — not more by 
Washington, Hancock, and Henry, — than by Chatham and 
his illustrious associates in the British Parliament. It ought 
to be remembered, too, that the heart of the English people 
was with us. It was a selfish and corrupt ministry, and their 
servile tools, to whom we were not more opposed than they 
were. I trust that none such may ever exist among us ; for 
tools will never be wanting to subserve the purposes, how- 
ever ruinous or wicked, of kings and ministers of state. I 
acknowledge the influence of a Shakespeare and a Milton 
upon my imagination ; of a Locke, upon my understanding; 
of a Sidney, upon my political principles ; of a Chatham, 
upon qualities which would to God I possessed in common 
with that illustrious man ! of a Tillotson, a Sherlock, and a 
Porteus, upon my religion. This is a British influence which 
I can never shake off." 

Pinkney. — William Pinkney was born at Annapolis, Mary- 
land, on the 17th of March, 1764. He was admitted to the 
bar in 1786, and the same year removed to Hartford County 
and commenced practice. Wheaton says : " His very first 
efforts seem to have given him a commanding attitude in 
the eye of the public. His attainments in the law of real 
property and the science of special pleading, then the two 
great foundations of legal distinction, were accurate and 
profound ; and he had disciplined his mind by the cultiva- 
tion of that species of logic, which, if it does not lead to the 
brilliant results of inductive philosophy, contributes essen- 
tially to invigorate the reasoning faculty, and to enabre it 
to detect those fallacies which are apt to impose upon the 
understanding in the warmth and hurry of forensic discus- 
sion. His style in speaking was marked by an easy flow of 
natural eloquence and a happy choice of language.. His 
voice was very melodious, and seemed a winning accompani- 
ment to his pure and effective diction. His elocution was 
calm and placid — the very contrast of that strenuous, ve- 
hement, and emphatic manner which he subsequently 
adopted." 

Mr. Pinkney for many years stood at the head of the bar 



348 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of Maryland, and for the last ten years of his life he did not 
have a superior as a lawyer, perhaps, in the United States. 

In person he was strong and muscular, square-shouldered 
and firm-set, exhibiting great vigour of action, with much 
grace and ease of movement. His countenance was intel- 
ligent and open, and was capable of the most powerful and 
various expression. His forehead was rather low, and his 
head oval in shape. Few men have equalled Mr. Pinkney 
in the power to invent, select, illustrate, and combine topics 
for the purposes of argument. 

But he did not rely on the resources of his genius. He 
improved it by constant and laborious study. From early 
life he was a diligent student, not only of law, but of general 
literature. His knowledge of the law was extensive, deep, 
and accurate. It is not the author's design to present even 
an outline of Mr. Pinkney's character as a statesman or a 
scholar, but chiefly as a forensic orator. The sketch of Mr. 
Pinkney as an orator, drawn by the distinguished Judge 
Story, is worthy of insertion here : 

" The celebrity of Mr. Pinkney, as a public speaker, re- 
quires some notice in this place of the nature and character 
of his oratory. It was, in manner, original, impressive, and 
vehement. He had some natural and some acquired defects, 
which made him, in some degree, fall short of that exquisite 
conception of the imagination, a perfect orator. His voice 
was thick and gutteral. It rose and fell with little melody 
and softening of tones, and was occasionally abrupt and 
harsh in its intonations, and wanting in liquidness and 
modulation. At times his utterance was hurried on to an 
excess of vehemence ; and then, as it were, per saltum, he 
would suffer it to fall, at the close of the sentence, to a low 
and indistinct whisper, which confused, at once, the sense and 
the sound. This inequality of elocution did not seem so 
much a natural . defect as a matter of choice or artificial 
cultivation. But the effect, from whatever cause it arose, 
was unpleasing ; and sometimes gave to his speeches the air 
of too much study, measured dignity, or dramatic energy. 
These, however, were venial faults, open to observation, in- 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA. 349 



deed, but soon forgotten by those, who listened to his in- 
structive and persuasive reasoning ; for no man could hear 
him, for any length of time, without being led captive by his 
eloquence. His imagination was rich and inventive ; his 
taste, in general, pure and critical ; and his memory uncom- 
monly exact, full, and retentive. He attained to a complete 
mastery of the whole compass of the English language ; and, 
in the variety of use, as well as the choice of diction, for all 
the purposes of his public labours, he possessed a marvellous 
felicity. It gave to his style an air of originality, force, 
copiousness, and expressiveness, which struck the most care- 
less observer. His style was not, indeed, like that of Junius ; 
but it stood out, among all others, with that distinct and 
striking peculiarity which has given such fame to that truly 
great, unknown author. His powers of amplification and 
illustration, whenever these were aporopriate to his purpose, 
seemed almost inexhaustible ; though he possessed, at the 
same time, the power of condensation, both of thought and 
language, to a most uncommon degree. He never used his 
powers of amplification and illustration for mere ornament ; 
but as auxiliaries to the main purposes of his argument, 
artfully interweaving them with the solid materials of the 
fabric. Occasionally, indeed, he would indulge himself in 
digressions of such singular beauty and brilliancy, such a 
magnificence of phrase, and an appropriateness of allusion, 
that they won applause, even from those whose functions 
demand a severe and scrutinising indifference to everything, 
but argument. In general, his speeches did not abound with 
rhetorical flourishes, or sparkle with wit, or scorch with sar- 
casm ; though he possessed the faculty of using each of 
them with great skill and promptitude. But when the 
occasion seemed to him, from its extraordinary interest, or 
the state of public excitement, to require it, his speeches 
abounded with poetical imagery, and ' ambitious ornaments, 
and were elaborated with all the studied amplitude of phrase 
of Burke and Bolingbroke. 

" But the principal and distinguishing faculty of Mr. 
Pinkney's mind, (in which few, if any, have ever excelled 



350 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



him,) and which gave such solid weight to his arguments, 
and carried home conviction to the doubting and the reluc- 
tant, was the closeness, acuteness, clearness, and vigour of his 
power of ratiocination. His luminous analysis of the 
merits of his case, his severe and searching logic, his pro- 
gressive expansion of the line of argument, sustaining itself 
at every step, by a series of almost impregnable positions, 
and his instantaneous perception of the slightest infirmity in 
the arguments or concessions of his adversary, gave him, in 
most debates, a captivating, if not a dangerous superiority, 
and made him, at the bar, a formidable antagonist, always 
to be watched with jealousy, and always to be approached 
with caution. 

" Mr. Pinkney entertained the loftiest notions of the 
dignity and utility of the profession ; and he endeavoured, on 
all occasions, to diffuse among the members of the bar the 
deepest sense of its importance, and responsibility to the 
public. He was desirous of fame, of that fame, which alone 
is enduring, the fame which reposes on sound learning, 
exalted genius, and diligent, nay, incessant study. What- 
ever might be the success of his oratory in the estimate of 
other persons, it never seemed to reach his own standard of 
excellence. He was, therefore, engaged in a constant 
struggle, not merely to excel others, but to excel himself; 
and thus, his orations, (for such many of his speeches were,) 
and his juridical arguments, were perpetually enriched by 
the last accumulations of a mind, whose ambition never 
tired, and whose industry never slackened, in its professional 
meditations and readings. In these respects, his example 
may fitly be propounded to all who seek solid reputation at 
the bar. He knew well that genius without labour could 
accomplish little ; and that he who would enlighten others, 
or be foremost in the race of life, must quicken his own 
thoughts, by giving his days and nights, not to the indul- 
gences of pleasure, or the soft solicitudes of literary ease, but 
to severe discipline, and the study of the great instructors of 
mankind in learning and science. His loss, in this edifying 
and cheering career, will long be felt. It has cast a gloom 



OR A TOR Y IN" AMERICA. 3 5 I 



over the profession, which can be dissipated only by the 
rise of some other master spirit, to guide, to cheer, and to 
instruct us." 

Wirt.— On the 8th of November, 1772, William Wirt 
was born at Bladensburg, Md. He was admitted to 
the bar in 1792. He made considerable reputation in the 
trial of Aaron Burr in 1807, against whom he appeared in 
aid of the prosecution. He wrote the Life of Patrick 
Henry, in 18 17. In the same year he was appointed 
Attorney-General of the United States by President 
Monroe. He died at Washington on the 18th day of 
February, 1834. 

Mr. Wirt was not only a student of the law, but he was 
an author and a diligent student of oratory. In a letter to 
a young man engaged in the study of the law, Mr. Wirt 
shows how thorough he was in his methods of study. The 
extract is well worthy of insertion here : 

" You may ask for instructions adapted to improvement 
in eloquence. This is a subject for a treatise, not for a 
letter. Cicero, however, has summed up the whole art in a 
few words ; it is ' apte — distincte — ornate — dicere ' — to speak 
to the purpose — to speak clearly and distinctly — to speak 
gracefully ; — to be able to speak to the purpose, you must un- 
derstand your subject and all that belongs to it : — and then 
your thoughts and methods must be clear in themselves, and 
clearly and distinctly enunciated ; — and lastly, your voice, 
style of delivery and gesture must be graceful, and delightfully 
impressive. In relation to this subject I would strenuously 
advise you two things : Compose much and often and care- 
fully with reference to this same rule, ' apte, distincte, 
ornate,' and let your conversation have reference to the 
same objects. I do not mean that you should be elaborate 
and formal in your ordinary conversation. Let it he per- 
fectly simple and natural, but always in good time, (to speak 
as the musicians,) and well enunciated. 

" With regard to the style of eloquence that you shall adopt, 
that must depend very much on your own taste and genius. 
You are not disposed, I presume, to be a humble imitator 



352 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of any man. If you are you may bid farewell to the hope 
of eminence in this walk. None are mere imitators to 
whom Nature has given original powers. If you are en- 
dowed with such a portion of the spirit of oratory as can 
advance you to a high rank in this walk, you manner will be 
your own. I can only tell you that the florid and Asiatic 
style is not the taste of the age. The strong, and the nigged 
and abrupt are far more successful. Bold propositions, 
boldly and briefly expressed — pithy sentences — nervous 
common sense — strong phrases — the feliciter audax, both in 
language and conception — well-compacted periods — sudden 
and strong masses of light — an apt adage — a keen sarcasm 1 — 
a merciless personality — a mortal thrust — these are the 
beauties and deformities that now make a speaker the most 
interesting. A gentleman and a Christian will conform to 
the reigning taste so far only as his principles and habits of 
decorum will permit. We require that a man should speak 
to the purpose, and come to t lie point — that he should instruct 
and convince. To do this, his mind must move with great 
strength and power ; reason should be manifestly his master 
faculty — argument should predominate throughout ; but 
these great points secured, wit and fancy may cast their 
lights around his path, provided the wit be courteous, as 
well as brilliant, and the fancy chaste and modest. But they 
must be kept well in the background, for they are dangerous 
allies ; and a man had better be without them, than to show 
them in front, or to show them too often." 

These precepts are excellent, and it would be difficult to 
find a better code for the student of oratory of the same 
length. 

Mr. Wirt had in his personal appearance much about him 
to win public favour. " He possessed a fine person, manners 
remarkably conciliating, and coloquial powers of the highest 
order. The most casual glance upon him in repose or 
action, impressed the beholder with an instinctive sense 
of his superiority. His natural air was dignified and com- 
manding ; his countenance was broad, open, manly and ex- 
pressive ; his eye was full of fire and feeling ; his mouth 



OR A TOR Y IN A ME RICA . 353 



•denoted mingled humour and firmness ; and his whole ap- 
pearance was truly oratorical. His frame was large, but 
agile ; his nose was Roman, his complexion pale and marked 
with lines of thought ; his forehead was not high, but broad ; 
his hair was sandy, and his head bald on the top. He had 
great original powers of action, but spoke with a chastened 
dignity which commanded respect bordering on awe. Of 
him it might have been said, as Dryden in his time declared 
of Harte, that ' kings and princes might have come to him, 
and taken lessons how to comport themselves with dignity.' 
Wirt's impressiveness resulted from the aggregate of a Cice- 
ronian person, a Chatham face, the voice of Anthony, and 
the mental qualities of Irving and Bowditch, — a model of 
grace and a master of dialectics, — poetry and philosophy com- 
bined. He had much of the acuteness of Marshall, and all 
the intrepidity of Pinkney ; but in his composition, there 
was no want of fluency, and no insolence or exultation of 
manner. Judgment and imagination lay in the balance of 
his mind in such delicate and equal proportions that the scale 
seldom trembled, and the splendours that encompassed the 
glorious combination in his mature life was never obscured. 

" Such an advocate will be heard. The envious and fas- 
tidious may pronounce him vague, impalpable or diffuse, 
yet all are compelled to listen to him with that spell-bound 
emotion which is always produced by noble and harmonious 
eloquence emanating from an honest and impassioned heart. 
Wirt was not a stranger to the popular esteem which such 
talents command. 

" His pathos was refined and thrilling. He could subdue 
all his admirable powers of mind and voice to those delicate 
tones which go directly to the heart, like zephyrs changed 
to angelic strains as they traverse ^Eolian strings. Such was 
his power when he described female, innocence and beauty 
abandoned by him who had basked in her smiles, and who 
should have prevented the winds of heaven from visiting her 
too roughly, now left ' shivering at midnight on the winter 
banks of the Ohio, and mingling her tears with the torrent, 
Avhich froze as they fell.' " 



354 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Another description of Mr. Wirt and of his oratory, will 
be found interesting : " His manner in speaking was singu- 
larly attractive. His manly form, his intellectual counte- 
nance and musical voice, set off by a rare gracefulness of 
gesture, won, in advance the favour of his auditory. He 
was calm, deliberate, and distinct in his enunciation, not 
often rising into any high exhibition of passion, and never 
sinking into tameness. His key was that of earnest and 
animated argument, frequently alternated with that of a 
playful and sprightly humour. His language was neat, well 
chosen, and uttered without impediment or slovenly repeti- 
tion. The tones of his voice played, with a natural skill, 
through the various cadences most appropriate to express 
the flitting emotions of his mind, and the changes of his 
thought. To these external properties of his elocution we 
may ascribe the pleasure which persons of all conditions 
found in listening to him. Women often crowded the court- 
rooms to listen to him, and as often astonished him, not only 
by the patience, but the visible enjoyment with which they 
were wont to sit out his argument to the end, — even when 
the topic was too dry to interest them, or too obstruse for 
them to understand his discourse. It was the charm of 
manner, of which the delicate tact of women is ever found 
to be the truest gauge and the most appreciative judge. 
His oratory was not of that strong, bold and impetuous 
nature which is often the chief characteristic of the highest 
eloquence, and which is said to sway the senate with abso- 
lute dominion, and to imprison or set free the storm of 
human passion in the multitude, according to the speaker's 
will. It was smooth, polished, scholar-like, sparkling with 
pleasant fancies, and beguiling the listener with its varied 
graces, out of all note or consciousness of time. 

" Without claiming for Mr. Wirt the renown of the most 
powerful orator or the profoundest lawyer in the country, 
it is sufficent to say, that he stood beside the first men of 
his day, equal in rank and repute, and superior to most, if 
not all, in the various accomplishments which he brought to 
the adornment of his profession." 



OR A TOR Y IN A M ERICA . 355 



Mr. Wirt's sensibility was acute and his imagination re- 
fined. In his earlier years his style was, at times, too florid, 
but as he grew older it became more chaste and elegant. 
He was never content to rest on his laurels. He continued 
to improve as he advanced in life, and to the last he always 
invested legal, political, or other topics with a graceful and 
charming spirit, and yet he was one of the most practical 
men of his day. 

He improved to the last not only as an advocate, but as a 
counsellor and scholar. The young candidate for forensic 
fame or political honours would do well to imitate his 
example. 

Mr. Wirt devoted his whole soul to the interests of his 
clients, and in this he was wise, for a lawyer who does not 
sincerely believe that his client ought to have a verdict will 
be apt to lose his case. His own unbelief will certainly be 
noticed by the jury, and will prove fatal to his case. No pro- 
testations which do not come from the heart will prevent it. 

Swedenborg, who could see more than any man of his 
day, both in this world and in the realm of disembodied 
spirits, professed to have seen in the spiritual world a num- 
ber of persons endeavouring in vain to express a proposition 
which they did not believe ; but it was impossible, though 
in repeated attempts their faces were distorted with rage, 
and their lips quivered with indignation. 

Mr. Wirt's account of a sermon he heard preached by a 
blind minister gives a fair specimen of his narrative style : 

" It was one Sunday, as I was travelling through the 
county of Orange, that my eye was caught by a cluster of 
horses tied near a ruinous old wooden house, in the forest, 
not far from the roadside. Having frequently seen such 
objects before in travelling through these states, I had no 
difficulty in understanding that this was a place of religious 
worship. 

" Devotion, alone should have stopped me to join the duties 
of the congregation ; but I must confess that curiosity to 
hear the preacher of such a wilderness was not the least of 
my motives. On entering I was struck with his preter- 



356 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



natural appearance. He was a tall and very spare old man ; 
his head, which was covered with a white linen cap, his 
shrivelled hands, and his voice, were all shaking under the 
influence of a palsy; and a few moments ascertained to me 
that he was perfectly blind. 

" The first emotions which touched my breast were those 
of mingled pity and veneration. But how soon were all 
my feelings changed ! It was a day of the administration 
of the sacrament ; and his subject, of course, was the pas- 
sion of our Saviour. I had heard the subject handled a 
thousand times. I had thought it exhausted long ago. 

" Little did I suppose that in the wild woods of America 
I was to meet with a man whose eloquence would give to 
this topic a new and more sublime pathos than I had ever 
before witnessed. As he descended from the pulpit to dis- 
tribute the mystic symbols, there was a peculiar — a more 
than human solemnity in his air and manner, which made 
my blood run cold, and my whole frame shiver. 

" He then drew a picture of the sufferings of our Saviour 
— his trial before Pilate — his ascent up Calvary — his cruci- 
fixion — and his death. I knew the whole history ; but 
never, until then, had I heard the circumstances so selected, 
so arranged, so coloured ! It was all new ; and I seemed to 
have heard it for the first time in my life. 

" But when he came to touch on the patience, the forgiv- 
ing meekness of our Saviour ; when he drew, to the life, his 
blessed eyes streaming in tears to heaven, his voice breath- 
ing to God a soft and gentle prayer of pardon on his enemies, 
' Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do/ 
the voice of the preacher, which had all along faltered, grew 
fainter and fainter, until, his utterance being entirely ob- 
structed by the force of his feelings, he raised his hander- 
chief to his eyes, and burst into a loud and irrepressible 
flood of grief. The effect was inconceivable. The whole 
house resounded with the mingled groans, and sobs, and 
shrieks of the congregation. 

" It was some time before the tumult had subsided so far 
as to permit him to proceed. Indeed, judging by the usual 



OR A TOR Y IN A ME RICA . 357 



but fallacious standard of my own weakness, I began to be 
very uneasy for the situation of the preacher; for I could 
not conceive how he would be able to let his audience 
down from the height to which he had wound them, with- 
out impairing the solemnity and dignity of his subject, or 
perhaps shocking them by the abruptness of the fall. But 
the descent was as beautiful and sublime as the elevation ' 
had been rapid and enthusiastic. 

" The first sentence with which he broke the awful silence 
was a quotation from Rosseau. ' Socrates died like a phi- 
losopher, but Jesus Christ — like a God.' I despair of giving 
you any idea of the effect produced by this short sentence, 
unless you could perfectly conceive the whole manner of 
the man, as well as the peculiar crisis in the discourse. 
Never before did I completely understand what Demos- 
thenes meant by laying such stres^ on delivery. 

" You are to call to mind the pitch of passion and enthu- 
siasm to which the congregation were raised ; and then, the 
few minutes of portentous, death-like silence which reigned 
throughout the house ; the preacher, removing his white 
handkerchief from his aged face (even yet wet from the 
recent torrent of his tears), and slowly stretching forth the 
palsied hand which holds it, as he begins the sentence, 
' Socrates died like a philosopher,' then pausing, raising 
his other hand, pressing them both, clasped together, with 
warmth and energy to his breast, lifting his ' sightless balls ' 
to heaven, and pouring his whole soul into his tremulous 
voice as he continues, ' but Jesus Christ — like a God!' If 
he had been in deed and in truth an angel of light, the effect 
could scarcely have been more divine." 

Everett. — Edward Everett was born in Dorchester, Mass., 
on the nth day of April, 1794. He began his education at 
the public schools of Dorchester and Boston. He graduated 
at Harvard University in his seventeenth year, and was 
a tutor there until his twentieth year. About this time he 
was called to the ministry. He spent four years in Europe 
in order to prepare himself for the Greek professorship at 
Harvard. He filled various positions of honour and trust, 



358 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



having been member of Congress, United States Senator, 
Governor of his native state, and Secretary of State of the 
United States, and the candidate on the Union ticket for the 
Vice-Presidency in i860. He died January 15, 1865. 

Mr. Everett was one of the most graceful and polished 
speakers of modern times. He was called the " golden- 
mouthed orator " by his friends and contemporaries, 
Choate, Webster and Phillips. 

In preparing his speeches no detail was too minute to 
escape his care — invention, arrangement of matter, expres- 
sion, intonation and gesture — all received the greatest 
attention. 

Mr. Everett's eloquence was of the Ciceronian order — 
copious, graceful, and flowing. He also resembled Cicero 
in the variety — and extent of his knowledge. His memory 
was very retentive. 

His sensibilities were refined. His imagination rich and 
sparkling. His gestures were graceful, and appropriate, and 
the tones of his voice clear, sweet and melodious. His 
manner was elegant and persuasive. It is said that no one 
could listen to him without being moved, instructed, and 
delighted. 

The following extracts from his magnificent orations, the 
author trusts, will prove interesting to his readers. 

Speaking of the " Advantages of Adversity to the Pilgrim 
Fathers," he said : 

" From the dark portals of the star-chamber, and in the 
stern text of the acts of uniformity, the pilgrims received a 
commission, more efficient than any that ever bore the 
royal seal. Their banishment to Holland was fortunate ; 
the decline of their little company in the strange land was 
fortunate ; the difficulties which they experienced in getting 
the royal consent to banish themselves to this wilderness 
were fortunate ; all the tears and heart-breakings of that 
ever memorable parting at Delfthaven 1 had the happiest 
influence on the rising destinies of New England. 

1 Delft haven, a fortified town in South Holland (now Belgium), between 
Rotterdam and Schiedam. At this place the Pilgrims of New England took 
their last farewell of their European friends. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA, 359 



" All this purified the ranks of the settlers. These rough 
touches of fortune brushed off the light, uncertain, selfish 
spirits. They made it a grave, solemn, self-denying expedi- 
tion, and required of those who engaged in it to be so too. 
They cast a broad shadow of thought and seriousness over 
the cause; and, if this sometimes deepened into melancholy 
and bitterness, can we find no apology for such a human 
weakness ? 

" It is sad, indeed, to reflect on the disasters which the 
little band of Pilgrims encountered ; sad to see a portion of 
them, the prey of unrelenting cupidity, treacherously em- 
barked in an unsound, unseaworthy ship, which they are 
soon obliged to abandon, and crowd themselves into one 
vessel ; one hundred persons, besides the ship's company, in 
a vessel of one hundred and sixty tons. One is touched at 
the story of the long, cold, and weary autumnal passage ; 
of the landing on the inhospitable rocks at this dismal sea- 
son ; where they are deserted, before long, by the ship 
which had brought them, and which seemed their only hold 
upon the world of fellow-men, a prey to the elements and 
to want, and fearfully ignorant of the numbers, the power, 
and the temper of the savage tribes, that filled the unex- 
plored continent, upon whose verge they had ventured. 

" But all this wrought together for good. These trials of 
wandering and exile, of the ocean, the winter, the wilderness, 
and the savage foe, were the final assurances of success. It 
was these that put far away from our father's cause all 
patrician softness, all hereditary claims to pre-eminence. No 
effeminate, nobility crowded into the dark and austere ranks 
of the Pilgrims. No Carr nor Villiers would lead on the ill- 
provided band of despised Puritans. No well-endowed 
clergy were on the alert to quit their cathedrals, and to set 
up a pompous hierarchy in the frozen wilderness. No 
craving governors were anxious to be sent over to our cheer- 
less El Dorados of ice and snow. 

" No ; they could not say they had encouraged, patron- 
ized, or helped the Pilgrims : their own cares, their own 
labours, their own councils, their own blood, contrived all, 
bore all, sealed all. They could not afterward fairly pre- 



360 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



tend to reap where they had not strewn ; and, as our fathers 
reared this broad and solid fabric with pains and watchful- 
ness, unaided, barely tolerated, it did not fall when the 
favour, which had always been withholden, was changed into 
wrath ; when the arm, which had never supported, was 
raised to destroy. 

" Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous 
vessel, the Mayflower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the 
prospects of a future state, and bound across the unknown 
sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand misgivings, the 
uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks 
and months pass, and winter surprises them on the deep, 
but brings them not the sight of the wished-for shore. 

"I see them now scantily supplied with* provisions ; 
crowded almost to suffocation in their ill-stored prison ; 
delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route, — and now 
driven in fury before the raging tempest, on the high and 
giddy waves. The awful voice of the storm howls through 
the rigging. The labouring masts seem straining from their 
base ; the dismal sound of the pumps is heard ; the ship 
leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to billow ; the ocean 
breaks, and settles with ingulfing floods over the floating 
deck, and beats, with deadening, shivering weight, against 
the staggered vessel. 

" I see them, escaped from these perils, pursuing their all 
but desperate undertaking, and landed at last, after a five 
months' passage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, — weak 
and weary from the voyage, poorly armed, scantily provi- 
sioned, depending on the charity of their shipmaster for a 
draught of beer on board, drinking nothing but water on 
shore, — without shelter, without means, — surrounded by 
hostile tribes. 

" Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any prin- 
ciple of human probability, what shall be the fate of this 
handful of adventurers. Tell me, man of military science, 
in how many months were they all swept off by the thirty 
savage tribes, enumerated within the early limits of New 
England ? Tell me, politician, how long did this shadow of 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 36 1 



a colony, on which your conventions and treaties had not 
smiled, languish on the distant coast ? Student of history, 
compare forme the baffled projects, the deserted settlements, 
the abandoned adventures of other times, and find the par- 
allel of this. 

" Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless 
heads of women and children ; was it hard labour and spare 
meals ; was it disease ; was it the tomahawk ; was it the 
deep malady of a blighted hope, a ruined enterprise, and a 
broken heart, aching in its last moments at the recollection 
of the loved and left beyond the sea ; — was it some or all 
of these united, that hurried this forsaken company to their 
melancholy fate ? And is it possible that neither of these 
causes, that not all combined, were able to blast this bud of 
hope ? Is it possible that, from a beginning so feeble, so 
frail, so worthy not so much of admiration as of pity, there 
has gone forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, 
an expansion so ample, a reality so important, a promise, 
yet to be fulfilled, so glorious ? " 

From an " Address on the Uses of Astronomy," the fol- 
lowing beautiful passage, descriptive of sunrise and early 
dawn, is taken : 

" Much as we are indebted to our observatories for eleva- 
ting our conceptions of the heavenly bodies, they present, 
even to the unaided sight, scenes of glory which words are 
too feeble to describe. I had occasion, a few weeks since, 
to take the early train from Providence to Boston, and for 
this purpose rose at two o'clock in the morning. Everything 
around was wrapped in darkness and hushed in silence, bro- 
ken only by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank 
and rush of the train. It was a mild, serene, midsummer's 
night ; the sky was without a cloud, the winds were hushed. 

" The moon, then in the last quarter, had just risen, and 
the stars shone with a spectral lustre but little affected by 
her presence. Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the 
day ; the Pleiades, just above the horizon, shed their sweet 
influence in the east ; Lyra sparkled near the zenith ; An- 
dromeda veiled her newly discovered glories from the naked 



362 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



eye in the south ; the steady Pointers, far beneath the pole, 
looked meekly up, from the depths of the north, to their 
sovereign. Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the 
train. As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight be- 
came more perceptible ; the intense blue of the sky began 
to soften ; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to 
rest ; the sister beams of the Pleiades soon melted together ; 
but the bright constellations of the west and north remained 
unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went 
on. Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the 
scenery of the heavens ; the glories of night dissolved into 
the glories of the dawn. 

" The blue sky now turned more softly gray ; the great 
watch-stars shut up their holy eyes ; the east began to kindle. 
Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky ; the 
whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of 
the morning light, which came pouring down from above in 
one great ocean of radiance ; till at length, as we reached 
the Blue Hills, a flush of purple fire blazed out from above 
the horizon, and turned the dewy tear-drops of flower and 
leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds, the ever- 
lasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the 
lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of 
man, began his state. 

" I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient Ma- 
gians, who, in the morning of the world, went up to the hill- 
tops of Central Asia, and, ignorant of the true God, adored 
the most glorious work of His hand. But I am filled with 
amazement when I am told that, in this enlightened age, 
and in the heart of the Christian world, there are persons who 
can witness the daily manifestation of the power and wisdom 
of the Creator and yet say in their hearts, ' There is no God.' ' 

The following passage contains Mr. Everett's celebrated 
panegyric on England : 

" No character is perfect among nations, more than among 
men ; but it must needs be conceded, that of all the states 
of Europe, England has been, from an early period, the 
most favoured abode of liberty ; the only part of Europe 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 363 



where, for any length of time, constitutional liberty can be 
said to have a stable existence. We can scarcely contem- 
plate with patience the idea, that we might have been a 
Spanish colony, a Portuguese colony, or a Dutch colony. 
What hope can there be for the colonies of nations which 
possess themselves no spring of improvement, and tolerate 
none in the regions over which they rule ; whose adminis- 
tration sets no bright examples of parliamentary indepen- 
dence ; whose languages send out no reviving lessons of 
sound and practical science, of manly literature, of sound 
philosophy, but repeat, with every ship that crosses the 
Atlantic, the same debasing voice of despotism, bigotry, and 
antiquated superstition? 

" What citizen of our Republic is not grateful in the con- 
trast which our history presents ? Who does not feel, what 
reflecting American does not acknowledge, the incalculable 
advantages derived to this land out of the deep fountains of 
civil, intellectual, and moral truth, from which we have 
drawn in England ? What American does not feel proud 
that his fathers were the countrymen of Bacon, of Newton 
and of Locke ? Who does not know that, while every 
pulse of civil liberty in the heart of the British empire beat 
warm and full in the bosom of our ancestors, the sobriety, 
the firmness, and the dignity, with which the cause of free 
principles struggled into existence here, constantly found 
encouragement and countenance from the friends of liberty 
there ? 

" Who does not remember that, when the Pilgrims went 
over the sea, the prayers of the faithful British confessors, 
in all the quarters of their dispersion, went over with them, 
while their aching eyes were strained till the star of hope 
should go up in the western skies ? And who will ever for- 
get that, in that eventful struggle which severed these 
youthful republics from the British crown, there was not 
heard, throughout our continent in arms, a voice which 
spoke louder for the rights of America, than that of Burke 
or of Chatham within the walls of the British Parliament, 
and at the foot of the British throne ? 



3 6 4 



HISTOR Y OF OR A TOR Y. 



" No ; for myself, I can truly say that, after my native 
land, I feel a tenderness and a reverence for that of my 
fathers. The pride I take in my own country makes me 
respect that from which we are sprung. In touching the 
soil of England, I seem to return, like a descendant, to the 
old family seat ; to come back to the abode of an aged and 
venerable parent. I acknowledge this great consanguinity 
of nations. The sound of my native language beyond the 
sea is a music to my ear, beyond the richest strains of Tus- 
can softness or Castilian majesty. I am not yet in a land of 
strangers, while surrounded by the manners, the habits, and 
the institutions under which I have been brought up. 

" I wander delighted through a thousand scenes, which the 
historians and poets have made familiar to us, of which the 
names are interwoven with our earliest associations. I tread 
with reverence the spots where I can retrace the footsteps 
of our suffering fathers ; the pleasant land of their birth has 
a claim on my heart. It seems to me a classic, yea, a holy 
land ; rich in the memory of the great and good, the cham- 
pions and the martyrs of liberty, the exiled heralds of 
truth; and richer as the parent of this land of promise in 
the West. 

" I am not — I need not say I am not — the panegyrist of 
England. I am not dazzled by her riches, nor awed by her 
power. The sceptre, the mitre, and the coronet, — stars, 
garters, and blue ribbons, — seem to me poor things for 
great men to contend for. Nor is my admiration awakened 
by her armies mustered for the battles of Europe, her navies 
overshadowing the ocean, nor her empire grasping the far- 
thest East. It is these, and the price of guilt and blood by 
which they are too often maintained, which are the cause 
why no friend of liberty can salute her with undivided af- 
fections. 

" But it is the cradle and the refuge of free principles, 
though often persecuted ; the school of religious liberty, the 
more precious for the struggles through which it has passed ; 
the tombs of those who have reflected honour on all who 
speak the English tongue ; it is the birthplace of our fathers, 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 365 



the home of the Pilgrims; — it is these which I love and 
venerate in England. I should feel ashamed of an enthusi- 
asm for Italy and Greece, did I not also feel it for a land 
like this. In an American, it would seem to me degenerate 
and ungrateful to hang with passion upon the traces of 
Homer and Virgil, and follow without emotion the nearer 
and plainer footsteps of Shakespeare and Milton. I should 
think him cold in his love for his native land who felt no 
melting in his heart for that other native country which 
holds the ashes of his forefathers." 

The -following eloquent passage, on knowledge, is taken 
from one of Mr. Everett's addresses on " Education Fa- 
vourable to Liberty, Morals, and Knowledge," delivered at 
Amherst College, August 25, 1835 : 

" What is human knowledge ? It is the cultivation and 
improvement of the spiritual principle in man. We are 
composed of two elements : the one, a little dust caught up 
from the earth, to which we shall soon return ; the other, a 
spark of that divine intelligence, in which and through 
which we bear the image of the great Creator. By know- 
ledge the wings of the intellect are spread ; by ignorance, 
they are closed and palsied, and the physical passions are 
left to gain the ascendancy. Knowledge opens all the 
senses to the wonders of creation ; ignorance seals them all 
up, and leaves the animal propensities unbalanced by re- 
flection, enthusiasm, and taste. To the ignorant man the 
glorious pomp of day, the sparkling mysteries of night, the 
majestic ocean, the rushing storm, the plenty-bearing river, 
the salubrious breeze, the fertile field, the docile animal 
tribes, the broad, the various, the unexhausted domain of 
nature, are a mere outward pageant, poorly understood 
in their character and harmony and prized only so far as 
they minister to the supply of sensual wants. How differ- 
ent the scene to the man whose mind is stored with know- 
ledge ! For him the mystery is unfolded, the veils lifted up, 
as one after another he turns the leaves of that great volume 
of creation, which is filled in every page with the characters 
of wisdom, power, and love ; with lessons of truth the most 



366 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



exalted ; with images of unspeakable loveliness and wonder ; 
arguments of Providence ; food for meditation ; themes of 
praise. One noble science sends him to the barren hills, 
and teaches him to survey their broken precipices. Where 
ignorance beholds nothing but a rough, inorganic mass, 
instruction discerns the intelligible record of the primal 
convulsions of the world ; the secrets of ages before man 
was ; the landmarks of the elemental struggles and throes of 
what is now the terraqueous globe. Buried monsters, of 
which the races are now extinct, are dragged out of deep 
strata, dug out of eternal rocks, and brought almost to life, 
to bear witness to the power that created them. Before the 
admiring student of nature has realised all of the wonders 
of the elder world, thus, as it were, re-created by science, 
another delightful instructress, with her microscope in her 
hand, bids him sit down and learn at last to know the uni- 
verse in which he lives, and contemplate the limbs, the 
motions, the circulations of races of animals, disporting in 
their tempestuous ocean — a drop of water. Then, while 
his whole soul is penetrated with admiration of the power 
which has filled with life, and motion, and sense these all 
but non-existent atoms, oh! then, let the divinest of the 
muses, let Astronomy approach, and take him by the hand ; 
let her 

' Come, but keep her wonted state, 
With even step and musing gait, 
And looks commercing with the skies, 
Her rapt soul sitting in her eyes.' 

Let her lead him to the mount of vision ; let her turn her 
heaven-piercing tube to the sparkling vault ; through that 
Jet him observe the serene star of evening, and see it trans- 
formed into a cloud-encompassed orb, a world of rugged 
mountains and stormy deeps ; or behold the pale beams of 
Saturn, lost to the untaught observer amidst myriads of 
brighter stars, and see them expand into the broad disk of a 
noble planet, — the seven attendant worlds, the wondrous 
rings, — a mighty system in itself, borne at the rate of twenty- 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 367 



two thousand miles an hour on its broad pathway through 
the heavens ; and then let him reflect that our great solar 
system, of which Saturn and his stupendous retinue is but a 
small part, fills itself, in the general structure of the uni- 
verse, but the space of one fixed star ; and that the power 
which filled the drop of water with millions of living beings 
is present and active throughout this illimitable creation ! — 
Yes, yes, 

' An undevout astronomer is mad ! ' " 

Corwin. — Thomas Corwin, one of the greatest natural 
orators that ever lived in America, was born in Bourbon 
County, Kentucky, July 29, 1794. In the year 1798, his 
parents went to Ohio. 

Mr. Corwin, as a young man, was studious in his habits, 
and was fitted at an early day to exert a decided influence 
upon those around him, in concerns of a general public 
interest. 

He was well grounded in the principles calculated to 
make a public man eminently useful, before he entered 
public life. 

In Congress, his appearance in debate was rare, but when 
he spoke he commanded the greatest attention. 

He who is destined to become a great orator must not 
only understand thoroughly the laws which govern the 
human mind, but by critical observations in the outward 
world, and through self-analysis, he should master those 
traits by which various classes are individualised, and hence 
can palpably portray the hopes and feelings of all bosoms, — 
" like the Arabian Magician, he holds a polished mirror to 
our gaze, wherein we behold not ourselves and the present 
only, but the thoughts and emotions of the past, scenes the 
most remote, and characters the most diversified. Men 
thus endowed will touch most sensibly a mixed audience, as 
well as interest to the greatest degree the most refined. 
Not only his graver productions will the erudite enjoy, but, 
in common with the unsophisticated masses, they will 
keenly relish his lighter and more homely strains." 



368 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Said Michael Angelo to the young sculptor : " Do not 
trouble yourself too much about the light on your statue, 
the light of the public square will test its value." So candi- 
dates for public favour are sure to be most successful who 
seek rather to deserve public favour than to forestall it. 

These truths Mr. Corwin thoroughly understood and ap- 
preciated. His chief study was man, and his school society 
at large. Therein he learned to draw the subtle discrimina- 
tions of mental action in every stage of life, and amongst 
every class of mankind. He was powerful because he was 
true. He expressed, frankly and fearlessly, what he dis- 
tinctly saw and acutely felt. 

Mr. Corwin was usually very courteous in debate, but 
when he or his friends were attacked he usually replied to 
his adversary with effect. His vindication of the patriotic 
Harrison from the attack of General Crary, of Michigan, is 
an example in point. General Crary, on the 14th of Febru- 
ary, 1840, in a debate on the Cumberland Road in Congress, 
endeavoured to enlighten mankind with his views of Gen- 
eral Harrison's deficiencies as a military commander, his 
mistakes at Tippecanoe, etc. Mr. Corwin replied in a 
speech replete with sarcasm, humour, and ridicule. Crary 
was completely overwhelmed, and John Quincy Adams a 
few days after referred to him as " the late Mr. Crary." The 
following passage will give some idea of the scathing wit 
with which the speech abounds : 

" In all other countries, and in all former times, a gentle- 
man who would either speak or be listened to on the subject 
of war, involving subtle criticisms and strategy, and careful 
reviews of marches, sieges, battles, regular and casual, and 
irregular onslaughts, would be required to show, first, that 
he had studied much, investigated fully, and digested the 
science and history of his subject. But here, sir, no such 
painful preparation is required ; witness the gentleman from 
Michigan ! He has announced to the House that he is a 
militia general on the peace establishment ! That he is a 
lawyer we know, tolerably well read in Tidd's Practice and 
Espinasse's Nisi Prius. These studies, so happily adapted 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 369 



to the subject of war, with an appointment in the militia in 
time of peace, furnish him at once with all the knowledge 
necessary to discourse to us, as from high authority, upon 
all the mysteries of the ' trade of death.' Again, Mr. 
Speaker, it must occur to every one, that we, to whom these 
questions are submitted and these military criticisms are 
addressed, being all colonels at least, and most of us, like 
the gentleman himself, brigadiers, are, of all conceivable 
tribunals, best qualified to decide any nice points connected 
with military science. I hope the House will not be alarmed 
with the impression that I am about to discuss one or the 
other of the military questions now before us at length, but 
I wish to submit a remark or two, by way of preparing us 
for a proper appreciation of the merits of the discourse we 
have heard. I trust as we are all brother-officers, that the 
gentleman from Michigan, and the two hundred and forty 
colonels or generals of this honourable House, will receive 
what I have to say as coming from an old brother in arms, 
and addressed to them in a spirit of candour, 

'Such as becometh comrades free, 
Reposing after victory.' 

" Sir, we all know the military studies of the military 
gentleman from Michigan before he was promoted. I take 
it to be beyond a reasonable doubt that he had perused with 
great care the title-page of Baron Stenben. Nay, I go 
further ; as the gentleman has incidentally assured us that 
he is prone to look into musty and neglected volumes, I 
venture to assert, without vouching in the least from per- 
sonal knowledge, that he has prosecuted his researches so 
far as to be able to know that the rear rank stands right 
behind the front. This, I think, is fairly inferable from 
what I understood him to say of the two lines of encamp- 
ment at Tippecanoe. Thus we see, Mr. Speaker, that the 
gentleman from Michigan, being a militia general, as he has 
told us, his brother officers, in that simple statement has 
revealed the glorious history of toils, privations, sacrifices, 
and bloody scenes, through which, we know from experience 



370 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



and observation, a militia officer, in time of peace, is sure to 
pass. We all in fancy now see the gentleman from Michi- 
gan in that most dangerous and glorious event in the life of 
a militia general on the peace establishment — a parade day ! 
That day, for which all the other days of his life seem to 
have been made. We can see the troops in motion — um- 
brellas, hoes, and axe-handles, and other like deadly imple- 
ments of war, overshadowing all the fields when lo ! the 
leader of the host approaches ! 

' Far off his coming shines ! ' 

His plume which, after the fashion of the great Bour- 
bon, is of awful length, and reads its doleful history in the 
bereaved necks and bosoms of forty neighbouring hen- 
roosts. Like the great Suwaroff, he seems somewhat care- 
less in forms or points of dress ; hence his epaulettes may 
be on his shoulders, back, or sides, but still gleaming, glori- 
ously gleaming, in the sun. Mounted he is, too, let it not 
be forgotten. Need I describe to the colonels and generals 
of this honourable House the steed which heroes bestride 
on these occasions ? No ! I see the memory of other days 
is with you. You see before you the gentleman from Michi- 
gan, mounted on his crop-eared, bushy-tailed mare, the sin- 
gular obliquity of whose hinder limbs is best described by 
that most expressive phrase, ' sickle hams ' — for height just 
fourteen hands, ' all told ' ; yes, sir : there you see his 
' steed that laughs at the shaking of the spear ' ; that is his 
war horse, ' whose neck is clothed with thunder.' Mr. 
Speaker, we have glowing descriptions in history, of Alexan- 
der the Great and his war horse Bucephalus, at the head of 
the invincible Macedonian phalanx ; but, sir, such are the 
improvements of modern times, that every one must see 
that our militia general, with his crop-eared mare with bushy 
tail and sickle hams, would totally frighten off a battle-field 
a hundred Alexanders. But, sir, to the history of the parade 
day. The general, thus mounted and equipped, is in the 
field and ready for action. On the eve of some desperate 
enterprise, such as giving order to shoulder arms, it may be, 









ORATORY IN AMERICA. 371 



there occurs a crisis, one of those accidents of war, which 
no sagacity could foresee nor prevent. A cloud rises and 
passes over the sun ! Here is an occasion for the display of 
that greatest of all traits in the history of a commander — 
the tact which enables him to seize upon and turn to good 
account unlooked-for events as they arise. Now for the 
caution wherewith the Roman Fabius foiled the skill and 
courage of Hannibal ! A retreat is ordered, and troops and 
general, in a twinkling, are found safely bivouacked in a 
neighbouring grocery. But even here the general still has 
room for the execution of heroic deeds. Hot from the field, 
and chafed with the heroic events of the day, your general 
unsheathes his trenchant blade, eighteen inches in length, as 
you will remember, and with energy and remorseless fury 
he slices the water-melons that lie in heaps around him, and 
shares them with his surviving friends. Others of the sinews 
of war are not wanting here. Whiskey, Mr. Speaker, that 
great leveller of modern times, is here also, and the shells of 
the water-melons are filled to the brim. Here, again, Mr. 
Speaker, is shown how the extremes of barbarism and civili- 
sation meet. As the Scandinavian heroes of old, after the 
fatigues of war, drank wine from the skulls of their slaugh- 
tered enemies in Odin's halls, so now our militia general and 
his forces, from the skulls of the melons thus vanquished, in 
copious draughts of whiskey assuage the heroic fire of their 
souls after a parade day. But, alas for this short-lived race 
of ours ! all things will have an end, and so it is even with 
the glorious achievements of our general. Time is on the 
wing, and will not stay his flight ; the sun, as if frightened 
at the mighty events of the day, rides down the sky, and 
' at the close of day, when the hamlet is still,' the curtain of 
night drops upon the scene, 

' And Glory, like the phoenix in its fires, 
Exhales its odours, blazes, and expires.' " 

Mr. Corwin was not an orifice-seeker. He did not com- 
promise his self-respect, as is often done by over-anxious 
candidates for public positions. He had aspirations, it is 



372 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



true, but they were of the loftiest and purest kind. He was 
never desirous of promoting his own selfish schemes at the 
public expense. His knowledge of our political and civil 
institutions was extensive and accurate, and he was animated 
with the sentiment of patriotism that would administer and 
maintain them in their true strength and purity. 

As an orator, Mr. Corwin was pre-eminently gifted by 
nature, and his elocutionary powers were highly cultivated. 
He was perfectly self-possessed in manner, and always spoke 
with great fluency. His language was pure and chaste. He 
always received the best attention from his audiences and 
held it unbroken to the end. One of the secrets of his 
power was that he knew when he had exhausted a subject, 
and when to stop. Unlike the great English orator, Charles 
James Fox, he rarely repeated his arguments. This was 
due to the clearness of his conceptions, and his exact arrange- 
ment of them — hence he rarely offended, as many of our 
best speakers do, by occasional indications of a want of 
thorough understanding of their own minds. 

On momentous occasions Mr. Corwin often exhibited 
oratorical powers which could hardly be excelled. 

His amiable and gentlemanly temper saved him from the 
hazard of giving personal offence to the victims of his wit 
and ridicule. In this respect he was fortunate, for his quick 
perception of the weak points in an opponent's position, and, 
if open to ridicule, his ready association of them with the 
most grotesque forms of exposure, give often, even to his 
grave speeches, a force and influence which the severest logic 
would utterly fail to give. 

Mr. Corwin allowed no doubt in his auditory of the sin- 
cerity of what he said, and this was one of the most striking 
features of his oratory. 

Prentiss. — Sergeant S. Prentiss was born at Portland, 
Maine, on the 30th day of September, 1808. 

Prentiss was always fond of reading, and before he had 
reached his tenth year he had read all the books that he 
could " lay hands on." The Bible and the Pilgrim s Progress 
were two of his favourite books even in childhood. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 373 



He entered Bowdoin College in 1824. At college his 
course was brilliant. On leaving college he commenced the 
study of law, and in the summer of 1827 he went to Natchez, 
Mississippi. He was admitted to the bar in June, 1829, and 
soon after formed a partnership with General Felix Huston. 
His first appearance at the bar is thus described by one of 
his biographers : " He was a slight-made, beardless boy, ex- 
tremely youthful-looking, by no means physically imposing, 
and a stranger to all at the court. It was a case he was 
appearing in for Mr. Huston ; and when it was called he 
responded to it, and stated the nature of the case, and that 
it stood on demurrer to some part of the proceedings which 
he desired to argue. The judge with some nonchalance 
told him he did not wish to hear argument on the subject, 
as he had made up his mind adversely to the side Mr. Pren- 
tiss appeared for ; upon this Mr. Prentiss modestly, but 
firmly, insisted on his client's constitutional right to be 
heard, by himself or counsel, before his case was adjudged 
against him. His right was recognised, and he was heard, 
and made a speech that astonished both court and by- 
standers ; and the judge, to his honour be it spoken, was not 
only convinced of the error of his previous opinion, but had 
the manliness to acknowledge it." Few young men, in a 
strange place, with a cause prejudged and the decision 
announced, would have so boldly asserted and maintained 
their client's rights. 

Mr. Prentiss appeared before the Supreme Court of the 
United States in 1833, and made a speech which consumed 
three or four hours. His propositions were so well fortified 
by authorities, and his speech was so gracefully delivered, 
that he instantly attracted the attention of Chief Justice 
Marshall, and called forth from that eminent jurist involun- 
tary praise. 

As a political orator Mr. Prentiss was always heard with 
the deepest interest. His self-possession, under the most 
trying circumstances, was remarkable. He was a warm 
admirer of Henry Clay, and an active opponent of General 
Jackson. On one occasion his speech was a powerful in- 



374 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



vective against General Jackson, for his removal of the 
members of his first Cabinet. While he was summing up 
the excuses of the Democratic party alleged for the act, he 
was suddenly confronted by a fellow holding up a large flag 
with nothing on it but the words " Hurrah for Jackson ! " 
inscribed with large letters. The man advanced slowly 
towards the speaker, whose eye no sooner caught the 
pennant than he exclaimed, without the slightest perturba- 
tion — " In short, fellow-citizens, you have now before you 
the sum and substance of all the arguments of the party — 
Hurrah for Jackson ! " The effect was electrical, and the 
poor man slunk away trailing his banner after him. 

In 1837, Mr. Prentiss canvassed his State and was elected 
to Congress. On his arrival at Washington his seat was 
contested, and a day was set apart for him to address the 
House in support of his claims. When the appointed time 
arrived, " nearly all the members were in their seats, the 
galleries were crowded, and every eye and ear were fixed in 
eager expectation. His first sentence riveted the attention 
of the whole audience, and each succeeding sentence in- 
creased the surprise and pleasure awakened by the first. 
Some, anticipating an outburst of fervid but unpolished 
declamation, were charmed to find themselves listening to 
an orator, whose logic was as accurate and subtle as that of 
a schoolman, while the fairest gems of literary culture 
adorned his rhetoric. Others, expecting a violent party 
harangue, were no less astonished to find themselves in the 
presence of a statesman and jurist discussing, with patriotic 
zeal, a great principle of constitutional law. His peroration 
was short, but- it thrilled the immense assemblage like an 
electric touch. Much of its force was owing to the tones of 
his voice, the glow of his eye and countenance, his peculiarly 
earnest manner, and the high-wrought feelings of his hearers ; 
but no one can read it even now without admiring its skill 
and beauty." 

" Nobody could equal it," Mr. Webster briefly remarked 
to a friend, as he left the hall. 

Mr. Prentiss received enthusiastic congratulations from 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 375 



friends and political foes upon the conclusion of his speech. 
President Fillmore was a member of the House when the 
speech was delivered, and he said of it in a letter, written in 
1853 : "I can never forget that speech. It was, certainly, the 
most brilliant that I ever heard, and, as a whole, I think it 
fully equalled, if it did not exceed, any rhetorical effort to 
which it has been my good fortune to listen in either House 
of Congress. It elevated him at once to the front rank of 
Congressional orators, and stamped his short but brilliant 
parliamentary career with the impression of undoubted 
genius and the highest oratorical powers. I have never 
read the published speech, but I apprehend it is not possi- 
ble that it should convey to the reader any adequate idea 
of the effect produced by its delivery." 

When the vote was taken on the question of his right to 
a seat, it was a tie, and the vote of the Speaker, James 
K. Polk, being cast against him, Mr. Prentiss returned home, 
but was soon after elected to Congress and served with great 
credit to himself his term. 

Mr. Prentiss was distinguished as a lawyer for the remark- 
able analytical power of his mind, and his acute and discern- 
ing logical faculty, as well as for his sound learning, his 
eloquence, and his extraordinary memory. Although his 
reading was full and general, it is said that he never forgot, 
and had always at command all that he had ever read. 
. As an extemporaneous speaker Mr. Prentiss has had few 
equals, and no superiors. 

Mr. Prentiss removed to New Orleans in 1845. The fol- 
lowing address was delivered by him before the New Eng- 
land Society of New Orleans, on the 22d of December, 
1845: 

Address on the Landing of the Pilgrims. 

" This is a day dear to the sons of New England, and ever 
held by them in sacred remembrance. On this day, from every 
quarter of the globe, they gather in spirit around the rock 
of Plymouth, and hang upon the urns of their Pilgrim 
Fathers the garlands of filial gratitude and affection. We 



376 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

have assembled for the purpose of participating in this hon- 
ourable duty ; of performing this pious pilgrimage. To-day 
we will visit that memorable spot. We will gaze upon the 
place where a feeble band of persecuted exiles founded a 
mighty nation ; and our hearts will exult with proud grati- 
fication as we remember that on that barren shore our 
ancestors planted not only empire, but Freedom. We will 
meditate upon their toils, their sufferings, and their virtues, 
and to morrow return to our daily avocations, with minds 
refreshed and improved by the contemplation of their high 
principles and noble purposes. 

" The human mind cannot be contented with the present. 
It is ever journeying through the trodden regions of the 
past, or making adventurous excursions into the mysterious 
realms of the future. He who lives only in the present is 
but a brute, and has not attained the human dignity. Of 
the future but little is known ; clouds and darkness rest upon 
it ; we yearn to become acquainted with its hidden secrets ; 
we stretch out our arms towards its shadowy inhabitants ; 
we invoke our posterity, but they answer us not. We wander 
in its dim precincts till reason becomes confused and at last 
start back in fear, like mariners who have entered an un- 
known ocean, of whose winds, tides, currents, and quick- 
sands they are wholly ignorant. Then it is we turn for 
relief to the past, that mighty reservoir of men and things. 
There we have something tangible to which our sympathies 
can attach ; upon which we can lean for support ; from 
whence we can gather knowledge and learn wisdom. There 
we are introduced into Nature's vast laboratory and witness 
her elemental labours. , We mark with interest the changes 
in continents and oceans by which she has notched the cen- 
turies. But our attention is still more deeply aroused by 
the great moral events which have controlled the fortunes 
of those who have preceded us, and still influence our own. 
With curious wonder we gaze down the long aisles of the 
past, upon the generations that are gone. We behold, as in 
a magic glass, men in form and feature like ourselves, actu- 
ated by the same motives urged by the same passions, 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 7>77 



busily engaged in shaping both their own destinies and ours. 
We approach them and they refuse not our invocation. We 
hold converse with the wise philosophers, the sage legisla- 
tors, and the divine poets. We enter the tent of the general, 
and partake of his most secret counsels. We go forth with 
him to the battle-field, and behold him place his glittering 
squadrons ; then we listen with a pleasing fear to the trumpet 
and the drum, or the still more terrible music of the boom- 
ing cannon and the clashing arms. But most of all, among 
the innumerable multitudes who peopled the past, we seek 
our own ancestors, drawn towards them by an irresistible 
sympathy. Indeed, they were our other selves. With 
reverent solicitude we examine into their character and 
actions, and as we find them worthy or unworthy, our 
hearts swell with pride, or our cheeks glow with shame. We 
search with avidity for the most trivial circumstances in their 
history, and eagerly treasure up every memento of their 
fortunes. The instincts of our nature bind us indissolubly 
to them and link our fates with theirs. Men cannot live 
without a past ; it is as essential to them as a future. Into 
its vast confines we still journey to-day, and converse with 
our Pilgrim fathers. We will speak to them and they 
shall answer us. 

" Two centuries and a quarter ago, a little tempest-tost, 
weather-beaten bark, barely escaped from the jaws of the wild 
Atlantic, landed upon the bleakest shore of New England. 
From her deck disembarked a hundred and one care-worn 
exiles. To the casual observer no event could seem more 
insignificant. The contemptuous eye of the world scarcely 
deigned to notice it. Yet the famous vessel that bore 
Caesar and his fortunes carried but an ignoble freight com- 
pared with that of the Mayflower. Her little band of Pil- 
grims brought with them neither wealth nor power, but the 
principles of civil and religious freedom. They planted them 
for the first time in the Western Continent. They cherished, 
cultivated, and developed them to a full and luxuriant matu- 
rity ; and then furnished them to their posterity as the only 
sure and permanent foundations for a free government. 



378 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Upon those foundations rests the fabric of our great Re- 
public ; upon those principles depends the career of human 
liberty. Little did the miserable pedant and bigot who 
then wielded the sceptre of Great Britain imagine that from 
this feeble settlement of persecuted and despised Puritans, 
in a century and a half, would arise a nation capable of 
coping with his own mighty empire in arts and arms. 

" It is not my purpose to enter into the history of the Pil- 
grims ; to recount the bitter persecutions and ignominious 
sufferings which drove them from England ; to tell of the 
eleven years of peace and quiet spent in Holland, under their 
beloved and venerated pastor ; nor to describe the devoted 
patriotism which prompted them to plant a colony in some 
distant land, where they could remain citizens of their native 
country and at the same time be removed from its oppres- 
sions ; where they could enjoy liberty without violating 
allegiance. Neither shall I speak of the perils of their ad- 
venturous voyage ; of the hardships of their early settlement ; 
of the famine which prostrated, and the pestilence which 
consumed them. 

" With all these things you are familiar, both from the page 
of history and from the lips of tradition. On occasions similar 
to this, the ablest and most honoured sons of New England 
have been accustomed to tell, with touching eloquence, the 
story of their sufferings, their fortitude, their perseverance, 
and their success. With pious care, they have gathered and 
preserved the scattered memorials of those early days, and 
the names of Carver, Bradford, Winslow, Standish, and their 
noble companions have long since become with us venerated 
household words. 

" There were, however, some traits that distinguished the 
enterprise of the Pilgrims from all others and which are well 
worthy of continued remembrance. In founding their colony 
they sought neither wealth nor conquest, but only peace and 
freedom. They asked but for a region where they could 
make their own laws, and worship God according to the dic- 
tates of their own consciences. From the moment they 
touched the shore, they laboured with orderly, systematic, and 



OR A TOR Y I AT A ME RICA . 3 79 



persevering industry. They cultivated, without a murmur, 
a poor and ungrateful soil, which even now yields but a 
stubborn obedience to the dominion of the plough. They 
made no search for gold, nor tortured the miserable savages, 
to wring from them the discovery of imaginary mines. 
Though landed by a treacherous pilot upon a barren and 
inhospitable coast, they sought neither richer fields nor a 
more genial climate. They found liberty, and for the rest 
it mattered little. For more than eleven years they had 
meditated upon their enterprise, and it was no small matter 
could turn them from its completion. On the spot where 
first they rested from their wanderings, with stern and high 
resolve, they built their little city and founded their young 
republic. Their honesty, industry, knowledge, and piety 
grew up together in happy union. There, in patriarchal 
simplicity and republican equality, the Pilgrim fathers and 
mothers passed their honourable days, leaving to their pos- 
terity the invaluable legacy of their principles and example. 

" How proudly can we compare their conduct with that of 
the adventurers of other nations who preceded them. How 
did the Spaniard colonise? Let Mexico, Peru, and Hispa- 
niola answer. He followed in the train of the great Dis- 
coverer, like a devouring pestilence. His cry was gold ! 
gold ! ! gold ! ! ! Never in the history of the world had the 
sacra fames auri exhibited itself with such fearful intensity. 
His imagination maddened with visions of sudden boundless 
wealth, clad in mail, he leaped upon the New World, an 
armed robber. In greedy haste he grasped the sparkling 
sand, then cast it down with curses, when he found the 
glittering grains were not of gold. 

" Pitiless as the bloodhound by his side, he plunged into 
the primeval forests, crossed rivers, lakes, and mountains, and 
penetrated to the very heart of the continent. No region, 
however rich in soil, delicious in climate, or luxuriant in pro- 
duction, could tempt his stay. In vain the soft breeze of 
the tropics, laden with aromatic fragrance, wooed him to 
rest ; in vain the smiling valleys, covered with spontaneous 
fruits and flowers, invited him to peaceful quiet. His search 



380 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



was still for gold ; the accursed hunger could not be ap- 
peased. The simple natives gazed upon him in superstitious 
wonder, and worshipped him as a god ; and he proved to 
them a god, but an infernal one — terrible, cruel, and remorse- 
less. With bloody hands he tore the ornaments from their 
persons, and the shrines from their altars ; he tortured them 
to discover hidden treasure, and slew them that he might 
search, even in their wretched throats, for concealed gold. 
Well might the miserable Indians imagine that a race of evil 
deities had come among them, more bloody and relentless 
than those who presided over their own sanguinary rites. 

" Now let us turn to the Pilgrims. They, too, were tempted ; 
and had they yielded to the temptation how different might 
have been the destinies of this continent — how different 
must have been our own ! Previous to their undertaking, 
the Old World was filled with strange and wonderful ac- 
counts of the New. The unbounded wealth, drawn by the 
Spaniards from Mexico and South America, seemed to af- 
ford rational support for the wildest assertions. Each suc- 
ceeding adventurer, returning from his voyage, added to the 
Arabian tales a still more extravagant story. At length Sir 
Walter Raleigh, the most accomplished and distinguished 
of all those bold voyageurs, announced to the world his dis- 
covery of the province of Guiana and its magnificent capital, 
the far-famed city of El Dorado. We smile now at his 
account of the ' great and golden city,' and ' the mighty, 
rich, and beautiful empire.' We can hardly imagine that 
anyone could have believed, for a moment, in their exist- 
ence. At that day, however, the whole matter was received 
with the most implicit faith. Sir Walter professed to have 
explored the country, and thus glowingly describes it from 
his own observation : 

" ' I never saw a more beautiful country, nor more lively 
prospects ; hills so raised here and there over the valleys — 
the river widening into divers branches — the plains adjoin- 
ing, without bush or stubble — all fair green grass — the deer 
crossing in every path — the birds, towards the evening, sing- 
ing on every tree with a thousand several tunes — the air 






ORATORY IN AMERICA. 38 1 



fresh, with a gentle easterly wind ; and every stone that we 
stopped to take up promised either gold or silver by its com- 
plexion. For health, good air, pleasure, and riches, I am 
resolved it cannot be equalled by any region either in the 
East or West.' 

" The Pilgrims were urged, in leaving Holland, to seek this 
charming country, and plant their colony among its Arcadian 
bowers. Well might the poor wanderers cast a longing glance 
towards its happy valleys, which seemed to invite to pious 
contemplation and peaceful labour. Well might the green 
grass, the pleasant groves, the tame deer, and the singing 
birds allure them to that smiling land beneath the equinoc- 
tial line. But while they doubted not the existence of this 
wondrous region, they resisted its tempting charms. They 
had resolved to vindicate, at the same time, their patriotism 
and their principles, to add dominion to their native land, 
and to demonstrate to the world the practicability of civil 
and religious liberty. After full discussion and mature de- 
liberation, they determined that their great objects could be 
best accomplished by a settlement on some portion of the 
northern continent, which would hold out no temptation to 
cupidity — no inducement to persecution. Putting aside, 
then, all considerations of wealth and ease, they addressed 
themselves with high resolution to the accomplishment of 
their noble purpose. In the language of the historian, 
1 Trusting to God and themselves,' they embarked upon 
their perilous enterprise. 

" As I said before, I shall not accompany them on their 
adventurous voyage. On the 226. day of December, 1620, 
according to our present computation, their footsteps pressed 
the famous rock which has ever since remained sacred to 
their venerated memory. Poets, painters, and orators have 
tasked their powers to do justice to this great scene. Indeed, 
it is full of moral grandeur ; nothing can be more beautiful, 
more pathetic, or more sublime. Behold the Pilgrims, as 
they stood on that cold December day — stern men, gentle 
women, and feeble children — all uniting in singing a hymn 
of cheerful thanksgiving to the good God, who had con- 



382 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ducted them safely across the mighty deep, and permitted 
them to land upon that sterile shore. See how their up- 
turned faces glow with a pious confidence which the sharp 
winter winds cannot chill, nor the gloomy forest shadows 
darken. 

1 Not as the conqueror comes, 

They, the true-hearted came ; 
Not with the roll of the stirring drum, 

Nor the trumpet, that sings of fame 
Nor as the flying come, 

In silence and in fear — 
They shook the depths of the desert gloom 

With their hymns of lofty cheer.' 

" Noble and pious band ! your holy confidence was not in 
vain, your ' hymns of lofty cheer ' find echo still in the 
hearts of grateful millions. Your descendants, when pressed 
by adversity, or when addressing themselves to some high 
action, turn to the ' Landing of the Pilgrims,' and find heart 
for any fate — strength for any enterprise. 

" How simple, yet how instructive, are the annals of this 
little settlement. In the cabin of the Mayflower they settled 
a general form of government, upon the principles of a pure 
democracy. In 1636 they published a declaration of rights 
and established a body of laws. The first fundamental 
article was in these words : ' That no act, imposition, law, 
or ordinance be made, or imposed upon us, at present or to 
come, but such as has been or shall be enacted by the con- 
sent of the body of freemen or associates, or their repre- 
sentatives legally assembled,' etc. 

i " Here we find advanced the whole principle of the Revolu- 
tion — the whole doctrine of our republican institutions. 
Our fathers, a hundred years before the Revolution, tested 
successfully, as far as they were concerned, the principle of 
self-government, and solved the problem, whether law and 
order can co-exist with liberty. But let us not forget that 
they were wise and good men who made the noble experi- 






ORATORY IN AMERICA. 383 



ment, and that it may yet fail in our hands, unless we imitate 
their patriotism and virtues. 

" There are some who find fault with the character of the 
Pilgrims, who love not the simplicity of their manners, nor 
the austerity of their lives. They were men, and of course 
imperfect ; but the world may well be challenged to point 
out, in the whole course of history, men of purer purpose or 
braver action — men who have exercised a more beneficial 
influence upon the destinies of the human race, or left be- 
hind them more enduring memorials of their existence. 

" At all events, it is not for the sons of New England to 
search for the faults of their ancestors. We gaze with pro- 
found veneration upon their awful shades ; we feel a grate- 
ful pride in the country they colonised — in the institutions 
they founded — in the example they bequeathed. We exult 
in our birthplace and in our lineage. 

" Who would not rather be of the Pilgrim stock than claim 
descent from the proudest Norman that every planted his 
robber blood in the halls of the Saxon, or the noblest paladin 
that quaffed wine at the table of Charlemagne ? Well may 
we be proud of our native land, and turn with fond affection 
to its rocky shores. The spirit of the Pilgrims still pervades 
it, and directs its fortunes. Behold the thousand temples of 
the Most High, that nestle in its happy valleys and crown 
its swelling hills ! See how their glittering spires pierce the 
blue sky, and seem like so many celestial conductors, ready 
to avert the lightning of an angry Heaven. The piety of 
the Pilgrim patriarchs is not yet extinct, nor have the sons 
forgotten the God of their fathers. 

" Behold yon simple building near the crossing of the village 
road ! It is small and of rude construction, but stands in a 
pleasant and quiet spot. A magnificent old elm spreads its 
broad arms above and seems to lean towards it, as a strong 
man bends to shelter and protect a child. A brook runs 
through the meadow near, and hard by there is an orchard — 
but the trees have suffered much and bear no fruit, except 
upon the most remote and inaccessible branches. From 
within its walls comes a busy hum, such as you may hear in 



384 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



a disturbed bee-hive. Now peep through yonder window 
and you will see a hundred children, with rosy cheeks, mis- 
chievous eyes, and demure faces, all engaged, or pretending 
to be so, in their little lessons. It is the public school — the 
free, the common school — provided by law ; open to all ; 
claimed from the community as a right, not accepted as a 
bounty. Here the children of the rich and poor, high and 
low, meet upon perfect equality, and commence under the 
same auspices the race of life. Here the sustenance of the 
mind is served up to all alike, as the Spartans served their 
food upon the public table. Here young Ambition climbs 
his little ladder, and boyish Genius plumes his half-fledged 
wing. From among these laughing children will go forth 
the men who are to control the destinies of their age and 
country — the statesman whose wisdom is to guide the Senate 
— the poet who will take captive the hearts of the people 
and bind them together with immortal song — the philoso- 
pher who, boldly seizing upon the elements themselves, 
will compel them to his wishes, and, through new combina- 
tions of their primal laws, by some great discovery, revolu- 
tionise both art and science. 

" The common village school is New England's fairest boast 
— the brightest jewel that adorns her brow. The principle 
that society is bound to provide for its members' education 
as well as protection, so that none need be ignorant except 
from choice, is the most important that belongs to modern 
philosophy. It is essential to a republican government. 
Universal education is not only the best and surest, but the 
-only sure foundation for free institutions. True liberty is 
the child of knowledge ; she pines away and dies in the 
arms of ignorance. 

" Honour, then, to the early fathers of New England, from 
whom came the spirit which has built a schoolhouse by 
every sparkling fountain, and bids all come as freely to the 
one as to the other. All honour, too, to this noble city, who 
has not disdained to follow the example of her northern 
sisters, but has wisely determined that the intellectual 
thirst of her children deserves as much attention as their 



ORATORY I AT AMERICA. 385 



physical, and that it is as much her duty to provide the 
means of assuaging the one as of quenching the other. 

" But the spirit of the Pilgrims survives, not only in the 
knowledge and piety of their sons, but, most of all, in their 
indefatigable enterprise and indomitable perseverance. 

" They have wrestled with nature till they have prevailed 
against her, and compelled her reluctantly to reverse her 
own laws. The sterile soil has become productive under 
their sagacious culture, and the barren rock, astonished, finds 
itself covered with luxuriant and unaccustomed verdure. 

" Upon the banks of every river they build temples to 
industry, and stop the squanderings of the spendthrift 
waters. They bind the naiads of the brawling stream. 
They drive the dryads from their accustomed haunts, and 
force them to desert each favourite grove ; for upon river, 
creek, and bay they are busy transforming the crude forest 
into staunch and gallant vessels. From every inlet or in- 
denture along the rocky shore swim forth these ocean birds 
— born in the wildwood, fledged upon the wave. Behold 
how they spread their white pinions to the favouring breeze, 
and wind their flight to every quarter of the globe — the 
carrier pigeons of the world ! It is upon the unstable ele-* 
ment the sons of New England have achieved their greatest 
triumphs. Their adventurous prows vex the waters of 
every sea. Bold and restless as the old northern Vikings, 
they go forth to seek their fortunes in the mighty deep. 
The ocean is their pasture, and over its wide prairies they 
follow the monstrous herds that feed upon its azure fields. 
As the hunter casts his lasso upon the wild horse, so they 
throw their lines upon the tumbling whale. They ' draw out 
Leviathan with a hook.' They ' fill his skin with barbed 
irons,' and in spite of his terrible strength they ' part him 
among the merchants.' To them there are no pillars of 
Hercules. They seek with avidity new regions, and fear 
not to be ' the first that ever burst ' into unknown seas. 
Had they been the companions of Columbus, the great 
mariner would not have been urged to return, though he 
had sailed westward to his dying day. 



386 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" Glorious New England ! thou art still true to thy ancient 
fame and worthy of thy ancestral honours. We, thy chil- 
dren, have assembled in this far-distant land to celebrate thy 
birthday. A thousand fond associations throng upon us, 
roused by the spirit of the hour. On thy pleasant valleys 
rest, like sweet dews of morning, the gentle recollections of 
our early life ; around thy hills and mountains cling, like 
gathering mists, the mighty memories of the Revolution ; 
and far away in the horizon of thy past gleam, like thine 
own Northern Lights, the awful virtues of our Pilgrim 
sires ! But while we devote this day to the remembrance 
of our native land, we forget not that in which our happy lot 
is cast. We exult in the reflection that, though we count by 
thousands the miles which separate us from our birthplace, 
still our country is the same. We are no exiles meeting 
upon the banks of a foreign river, to swell its waters with 
our home-sick tears. Here floats the same banner which 
rustled above our boyish heads, except that its mighty 
folds are wider and its glittering stars increased in number. 

" The sons of New England are found in every State of the 
broad Republic. In the East, the South, and the unbounded 
'West, their blood mingles freely with every kindred current. 
We have but changed our chamber in the paternal mansion ; 
in all its rooms we are at home, and all who inhabit it are 
our brothers. To us the Union has but one domestic 
hearth ; its household gods are all the same. Upon us, 
then, peculiarly devolves the duty of feeding the fires upon 
that kindly hearth ; of guarding with pious care those sacred 
household gods. 

"We cannot do with less than the whole Union ; to us it 
admits of no division. In the veins of our children flows 
Northern and Southern blood ; how shall it be separated ; 
who shall put asunder the best affections of the heart, the 
noblest instincts of our nature ? We love the land of our 
adoption, so do we that of our birth. Let us ever be true 
to both ; and always exert ourselves in maintaining the 
unity of our country, the integrity of the Republic. 

" Accursed, then, be the hand put forth to loosen the golden 



OR A TOR Y IN- A ME RICA . 387 



cord of Union ; thrice accursed the traitorous lips, whether 
of Northern fanatic or Southern demagogue, which shall 
propose its severance! But, no, the Union cannot be dis- 
solved ; its fortunes are too brilliant to be marred ; its des- 
tinies too powerful to be resisted. Here will be their great- 
est triumph, their most mighty development. And when, 
a century hence, this Crescent City shall have filled her 
golden horns, when within her broad-armed port shall be 
gathered the products of the industry of a hundred million.*: 
of freemen, when galleries of art and halls of learning shail 
have made classic this mart of trade, then may the sons of 
the Pilgrims, still wandering from the bleak hills of the 
North, stand upon the banks of the Great River, and ex- 
claim with mingled pride and wonder : ' Lo ! this is our 
country ; when did the world ever witness so rich and mag- 
nificent a city — so great and glorious a Republic ! ' " 

Webster. — Daniel Webster was one of the greatest polit- 
ical and forensic orators that ever lived in any age or coun- 
try. He was born in the town of Salisbury, New Hampshire, 
on the 1 8th of January, 1782, the last year of the revolution- 
ary war. He came of a patriotic ancestry. Ebenezer Web- 
ster, his father, was a captain in that war. He participated 
in the battle of White Plains, and was in the thickest of the 
fight at Bennington. He was elected a representative from 
Salisbury to the Legislature of New Hampshire, and was 
afterward State Senator, and was finally chosen as a judge 
of the Court of Common Pleas. He died in 1806, at the age 
of sixty-seven. Ebenezer Webster was married twice. His 
second wife, the mother of Daniel Webster, was a woman of 
remarkably great mental endowments. 

Daniel Webster was reared amidst the rugged, majestic 
scenery of New Hampshire. It is the opinion of some writers 
that scenery which is grand and sublime contributes to the 
formation of character — intellectual and moral; and it has 
been said that nearly all the heroism, moral excellence, and 
ennobling literature of the world has been produced by those 
who, in infancy and in youth, were fostered by the inspira- 
tion of exalted regions, where the turf is covered with a rude 



388 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



beauty, rocks and wilderness are piled in bold and inimitable 
shapes of savage grandeur, tinged with the hues of untold 
centuries, and over which awe-inspiring storms often sweep 
with thunders in their train. This is the influence which 
more than half created the Shakespeares, Miltons, Spensers, 
Wordsworths, Scotts, Coleridges, Shelleys, Irvings, Coopers, 
Bryants, and Websters of the world. An eloquent speaker 
said of him : " Born upon the verge of civilisation, — his fath- 
er's house the farthest by four miles on the Indian trail to 
Canada, — Mr. Webster retained to the last his love for that 
pure fresh nature in which he was cradled. The dashing 
streams, which conduct the waters of the queen of New 
Hampshire's lakes to the noble Merrimac; the superb group 
of mountains (the Switzerland of the United States), among 
which those waters have their sources ; the primeval forest, 
whose date runs back to the twelfth verse of the first chapter 
of Genesis, and never since creation yielded to the settler's axe ; 
the gray buttresses of granite which prop the eternal hills ; the 
sacred alternation of the seasons, with its magic play on field 
and forest and flood ; the gleaming surface of lake and stream 
in summer ; the icy pavement with which they are floored in 
winter ; the verdure of spring, the prismatic tints of the 
autumnal woods, the leafless branches of December, glitter- 
ing like arches and corridors of silver and crystal in the en- 
chanted palaces of fairy-land — sparkling in the morning sun 
with winter's jewelry, diamond and amethyst, and ruby and 
sapphire ; the cathedral aisles of pathless woods — the mourn- 
ful hemlock, the ' cloud-seeking' pine, — hung with drooping 
creepers, like funeral banners pendant from the roof of chan- 
cel or transept over the graves of the old lords of the soil ; 
— these all retained for him to the close of his life an un- 
dying charm." 

As an agricultural labourer Daniel Webster, in his youth 
at least, was not greatly distinguished, except for inef- 
ficiency, and he said on one occasion that his father sent him 
to college to make him equal to the other children. At one 
time, Daniel was put to mowing, but he made bad work of 
it. His scythe was sometimes in the ground, and sometimes 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 389 



over the tops of all the grass. He complained to his father 
that his scythe was not hung right. Various attempts were 
made to hang it better, but with no success. His father told 
him, at length, he might hang it to suit himself, and he 
therefore hung it upon a tree, and said, " There, that 's 
right." His father laughed, and told him to let it hang 
there. 

When he reached his fourteenth year, Webster was taken 
by his father, whom he always so tenderly loved, to the 
Phillips Academy, Exeter, and placed under the care of 
the good Dr. Benjamin Abbott. 

Webster mastered in a short time the principles of English 
grammar, and made some progress with his other studies. 

Diffident speakers should note the fact that early in life 
Webster had the strongest antipathy to public declamation, 
and when he first declaimed at school he became greatly 
embarrassed, and even burst into tears. 

Mr. Webster was graduated at Dartmouth College in 
August, 1801. He was admitted to the bar in 1805. 

When he was thirty years of age, he was elected to Con- 
gress, and took his seat at the extra session in May, 1813. 
In the following June of the same year, he made his first 
speech in Congress on the Berlin and Milan decrees. This 
speech placed Webster at once in the front rank of parlia- 
mentary orators. Chief Justice Marshall, and many other 
eminent men who heard it, were greatly pleased with it, and 
the learned Chief Justice predicted that he would become 
one of the " very first statesmen in America, and perhaps 
the first " ; and the celebrated Mr. Lowndes remarked that 
the North had not his equal, nor the South his superior. 

In a letter dated June 24, 1839, Thomas Carlyle writes 
to his friend Ralph Waldo Emerson, as follows, of Web- 
ster : " . . . Not many days ago I saw at breakfast 
the notablest of all your Notabilities, Daniel Webster. He 
is a magnificent specimen ; you might say to all the world : 
This is your Yankee Englishman, such limbs we make in 
Yankeeland ! As a logic-fencer, Advocate, or Parliamentary 
Hercules, one would incline to back him at first sight against 



390 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



the extant world. The tanned complexion, that amorphous 
crag-like face ; the dull black eyes under the precipice of 
brows, like dull anthracite furnaces, needing only to be 
blown ; the mastiff-mouth, accurately closed : — I have not 
traced as much of silent Berserkir-rage, that I remember of, 
in any other man. ' I guess I should not like to be your 
nigger!' Webster is not loquacious, but he is pertinent, 
conclusive ; a dignified, perfectly bred man, though not 
English in breeding : a man worthy of the best reception 
from us ; and meeting such, I understand. He did not 
speak much with me that morning, but seemed not at all to 
dislike me. . . ." 

The following graphic and interesting description of Web- 
ster was written by Miss Mary Russell Mitford to one of her 
friends in 1839: 

" Daniel Webster is himself not more than fifty-five now — 
the first lawyer, orator, and statesman of America, certainly, 
and the next, or next but one, President. He is the noblest- 
looking man I ever saw, both in face and person. The por- 
trait prefixed to his Speeches does him great injustice, for 
his countenance is delightfully gracious — such a smile ! and 
he is a broad, muscular, splendid figure. His manner, too, 
is all that one can imagine of calm, and sweet, and gracious 
— as charming as the Duke of Devonshire ; as courteous 
even as that prince of courtesy, and equally free from conde- 
scension — whilst amidst the perfect simplicity and gentle- 
ness there is great conversational power. His wife and 
daughters seem to adore his very footsteps ; and he has 
conquered for himself a degree of real consideration and 
respect in London never shown before to any transatlantic 
personage ; least of all to a lion. My father adores him. I 
think he liked him even better than I did ; and he says that 
he promised him to come again, and that he is sure to keep 
his word. 

"I should like you to see Daniel Webster! When I tell 
you that expecting from him what I did, and hearing from 
twenty people, accustomed to see in perfect intimacy all 
distinguished people, that he alone gave them the idea of a 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 39 1 



truly great man — when I say that he exceeded our expecta- 
tions by very far, you may imagine what he is. I am to 
send them all my flower-seeds, and they are to send me all 
theirs. I chose the Murder-Speech (is it not wonderfully 
fine? like Sheil, without the tawdriness, I think,) to read to 
my father, because that is free from the alloy, to an English 
ear, of allusions intelligible across the water, but not to us. 
Two very clever friends of ours went to Oxford to hear him 
speak, and they say that they would walk there again and 
back, to hear him only speak the same speech over again ! 
Is not that praise ? " 

His speech in the Dartmouth College case established his 
reputation as a lawyer upon a firm basis. It was one of the 
finest forensic efforts on record. The profound legal know- 
ledge and the overpowering eloquence he displayed on that 
occasion placed him in the front rank of jurists and forensic 
orators. It is said that its effects upon the audience were 
prodigious, and that the concluding remarks of his argu- 
ment were uttered in tones of the deepest pathos which 
thrilled his hearers. When he ceased to speak there was a 
death-like stillness throughout the court-room which lasted 
for some moments. The dignified Chief Justice Marshall was 
overcome by this manly burst of eloquence — his furrowed 
cheeks trembled with emotion, and his eyes were suffused 
with tears. Said Rufus Choate : " Well, as if of yesterday, 
I remember how it was written home from Washington, that 
* Mr. Webster closed a legal argument of great power by a 
peroration which charmed and melted his audience.' ' 

One of Mr. Webster's most eloquent speeches in Congress 
was that which he made on the Revolution in Greece. The 
exordium contains a striking and happy allusion to Greece 
as the mistress of the world in the arts and sciences. The 
author will give this passage : 

" I am afraid, Mr. Chairman, that, so far as my part in this 
discussion is concerned, those expectations which the public 
excitement existing on the subject, and certain associations 
easily suggested by it, have conspired to raise, may be dis- 
appointed. An occasion which calls the attention to a spot 



392 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



so distinguished, so connected with interesting recollections, 
as Greece, may naturally create something of warmth and 
enthusiasm. In a grave political discussion, however, it is 
necessary that those feelings should be chastised. I shall 
endeavour properly to repress them, although it is impossi- 
ble that they should be altogether extinguished. We must, 
indeed, fly beyond the civilised world ; we must pass the do- 
minion of law and the boundary of knowledge ; we must, 
more especially, withdraw ourselves from this place, and the 
scenes and objects which here surround us, — if we would 
separate ourselves entirely from the influence of all those 
memorials of herself which ancient Greece has transmitted 
for the admiration and the benefit of mankind. This free 
form of government, this popular assembly, the common 
council held for the common good — where have we contem- 
plated its earliest models ? This practice of free debate and 
public discussion, the contest of mind with mind, and that 
popular eloquence which, if it were now here, on a subject 
like this, would move the stones of the Capitol, — whose was 
the language in which all these were first exhibited ? Even 
the edifice in which we assemble, these proportioned columns, 
this ornamental architecture, all remind us that Greece has 
existed, and that we, like the rest of mankind, are greatly 
her debtors." 

In this speech of Mr. Webster occurs one of the finest 
passages in the English language on the power of public 
opinion over mere physical force. He was asked what kind 
of aid this country should give Greece, whether we should 
declare war on her account, or furnish her armies and navies. 
He replied in the following eloquent language: 

" Sir, this reasoning mistakes the age. The time has been, 
indeed, when fleets, and armies, and subsidies were the prin- 
cipal reliances even in the best cause. But, happily for man- 
kind, there has arrived a great change in this respect. Moral 
causes come into consideration, in proportion as the progress 
of knowledge is advanced ; and the public opinion of the 
civilised world is rapidly gaining an ascendancy over mere 
brutal force. It may be silenced by military power, but it 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 393 



cannot be conquered. It is elastic, irrepressible, and invul- 
nerable to the weapons of ordinary warfare. It is that 
impassable, inextinguishable enemy of mere violence and 
arbitrary rule, which, like Milton's angels, 

1 Vital in every part, . . . 
Can not, but by annihilating, die.' 

" Unless this be propitiated or satisfied, it is in vain for 
power to talk either of triumph or repose. No matter 
what fields are desolated, what fortresses surrendered, what 
armies subdued, or what provinces overrun, there is an enemy 
that still exists to check the glory of these triumphs. It 
follows the conqueror back to the very scene of his ovations ; 
it calls upon him to take notice that the world, though silent, 
is yet indignant ; it shows him that the sceptre of .his victory 
is a barren sceptre ; that it shall convey neither joy nor honour, 
but shall moulder to dry ashes in his grasp. In the midst of 
his exultation, it pierces his ear with the cry of injured jus- 
tice ; it denounces against him the indignation of an enlight- 
ened and civilised age ; it turns to bitterness the cup of his 
rejoicing; and wounds him with the sting which belongs to 
the consciousness of having outraged the opinion of man- 
kind." 

Mr. Webster was called upon to deliver an address at the 
laying of the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument on 
the 17th day of June, 1825 — the fiftieth anniversary of the 
battle. It is said that on this occasion Mr. Webster thrilled 
the hearts of his immense audience by a strain of eloquence 
as lofty and majestic as ever flowed from the lips of an 
orator. The following passage, the writer thinks, is particu- 
larly worthy of quotation : 

" We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must 
forever be dear to us and to our posterity. We wish that 
whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eye hither, may 
behold that the place is not undistinguished where the first 
great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish that 
this structure may proclaim the magnitude and importance 



394 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of that event to every class and every age. We wish that 
infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal 
lips, and that weary and withered age may behold it, and be 
solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish 
that labour may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of 
its toil. We wish that in those days of disaster, which, as 
they come upon all nations, must be expected to come upon 
us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward 
and be assured that the foundations of our national power 
are still strong. We wish that this column, rising towards 
heaven among the pointed spires of so many temples dedi- 
cated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all minds, 
a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, 
finally, that the last object to the sight of him who leaves 
his native shore, and the first to gladden his who revisits it, 
may be something which shall remind him of the liberty and 
glory of his country. Let it rise ! let it rise ! till it meet the 
sun in his coming ! let the earliest light of the morning gild it, 
and parting day linger and play on its summit." 

What can be more eloquent than the following passage 
proclaiming the immortality of Adams and Jefferson, taken 
from the funeral discourse, the most eloquent ever pro- 
nounced in any language or in any country, upon those 
distinguished patriots, delivered in Faneuil Hall on the 
2d day of August, 1826, in the presence of an immense 
audience : 

" Although no sculptured marble should rise to their 
memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet 
will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they hon- 
oured. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, 
time may erase all impress from the crumbling stone, but 
their fame remains, for with American liberty it rose, and 
with American liberty only can it perish. It was the last 
swelling peal of yonder choir, ' Their bodies are buried in 
peace, but their name, liveth evermore.' I catch that solemn 
song, I echo that lofty strain of funeral triumph ' Their name 
liveth evermore.' " 

One of the greatest subjects which enlisted the attention 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 395 



of Mr. Webster was the Bank question. President Jackson, 
on the 1 8th day of September, 1833, ordered the removal of 
the public deposits from the Bank of the United States. 
The business of the country suffered greatly by this step. 
About two months after this removal had taken place, Con- 
gress met, and Mr. Clay introduced a resolution, which 
passed the Senate (March 28, 1834), censuring the President 
for assuming power not warranted by the Constitution. 
General Jackson communicated his protest against this 
resolution on the 17th of April. This drew from Mr. Web- 
ster, on the 7th of May, a speech of great power. 

The most eloquent passage in this speech is the one in 
which Mr. Webster referred to the extent of the power of 
England. 

Mr. Webster properly regarded the act of the President 
as unconstitutional, and a dangerous encroachment upon 
the liberties of the people, and one which should not be 
allowed to pass unnoticed. 

He felicitously adverted in the course of his speech to 
the fundamental principles of civil liberty, and to the re- 
sistance made by the Revolutionary patriots to the claim of 
England that she had the right to tax them. He said : 

" We are not to wait till great public mischiefs come, till 
the government is overthrown, or liberty itself put into 
extreme jeopardy. We should not be worthy sons of our 
fathers were we so to regard great questions affecting the 
general freedom. Those fathers accomplished the Revolu- 
tion on a strict question of principle. The Parliament of 
Great Britain asserted a right to tax the Colonies in all cases 
whatsoever ; and it was precisely on this question that they 
made the Revolution turn. The amount of taxation was 
trifling, but the claim itself was inconsistent with liberty ; 
and that was, in their eyes, enough. It was against the 
recital of an act of Parliament, rather than against any 
suffering under its enactments, that they took up arms. 
They went to war against a preamble. They fought seven 
years against a declaration. They poured out their treasures 
and their blood like water in a contest against an assertion 



396 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



which those less sagacious and not so well schooled in the 
principles of civil liberty would have regarded as barren 
phraseology, or mere parade of words. They saw in the 
claim of the British Parliament a seminal principle of mis- 
chief, the germ of unjust power, they detected it, dragged it 
forth from underneath its plausible disguises, struck at it ; 
nor did it elude either their steady eye or their well-directed 
blow till they had extirpated and destroyed it, to the smallest 
fibre. On this question of principle, while actual suffering 
was yet afar off, they raised their flag against a power, to 
wJiich, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, 
in the height of her glory, is not to be compared ; a power which 
has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her pos- 
sessions and military posts, whose morning drum-beat, 
following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, 
circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain of 
the martial airs of England." 

This speech was well received throughout the country. 
Chancellor Kent, soon after the speech was delivered, wrote 
Mr. Webster to the following effect : 

" You never equalled this effort. It surpasses everything 
in logic, in simplicity and beauty and energy of diction ; in 
cleverness, in rebuke, in sarcasm, in patriotic and glowing 
feeling, in just and profound constitutional views, in critical 
severity, and matchless strength. It is worth millions to our 
liberties." 

In the opinion of many writers, Webster's reply to Hayne 
was his greatest speech. Undoubtedly Mr. Webster's well- 
timed speech did much to save the Union. His defence of 
the Constitution was admirable, and his attack upon the 
pernicious doctrine of nullification was unanswerable. Colo- 
nel Hayne was a foeman worthy of his steel. The following 
account has been given of him : " Robert Y. Hayne, the 
great antagonist of Daniel Webster, and one of the most 
brilliant orators of the South, was born near Charleston, 
South Carolina, on the 10th of November, 1791. The 
Senate of the United States was the theatre of his greatest 
glory. Here he acquired a reputation which will last for^ 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA. 397 



ever. In 1832, Mr. Hayne was elected Governor of South 
Carolina. He died on the 24th of September, 1841, in the 
48th year of his age. 

" Colonel Hayne possessed some of the highest characteris- 
tics of eloquence. He was often vehement and impassioned. 
His invectives were unsparing. His voice was full and 
melodious, and his manner earnest and impressive. Full of 
ingenuous sensibility, his eyes were as expressive as his 
tongue, and as he poured out his thoughts or feelings, either 
in a strain of captivating sweetness or of impetuous and 
overbearing passion, every emotion of his soul was distinctly 
depicted in the lineaments of his countenance. His mind 
was active, energetic, and aggressive. He was full of en- 
thusiasm, altogether in earnest ; when he spoke, every limb 
of his body, and every feature of his countenance, sympa- 
thised with the action of his mind. 

" Hayne dashed into debate like the Mameluke cavalry 
upon a charge. There was a gallant air about him that 
could not but win admiration. He never provided for re- 
treat ; he never imagined it. He had an invincible con- 
fidence in himself, which arose partly from constitutional 
temperament, partly from previous success. His was the 
Napoleonic warfare ; to strike at once for the capitol of the 
enemy, heedless of danger or cost to his own forces. Not 
doubting to overcome all odds, he feared none, however 
seemingly superior. Of great fluency and no little force of 
expression, his speech never halted, and seldom fatigued. 

" His oratory was graceful and persuasive. An impassioned 
manner, somewhat vehement at times, but rarely if ever ex- 
travagant ; a voice well modulated and clear ; a distinct, 
though rapid enunciation ; a confident but not often of- 
fensive address ; these, accompanying and illustrating lan- 
guage well selected, and periods well turned, made him a 
popular and effective speaker." 

On Monday, the 25th January, 1830, Colonel Hayne in 
concluding his argument made several allusions to the East- 
ern States and to Mr. Webster personally which bordered 
on the offensive. After Haynes's speech. Mr. Iredell, a 



398 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Senator from North Carolina, speaking to a friend, said : 
" He has started the lion ; but wait till we hear his roar, or 
feel his claws." Colonel Hayne soon after did hear the roar 
of the lion, and did feel his claws. 

The day on which Mr. Webster delivered his great speech 
on Foot's resolution — the 26th day of January, 1830 — was a 
memorable one in the history of Mr. Webster and of this 
country. The scene in the Senate-chamber as well as the 
circumstances connected with this speech are graphically 
described by Mr. March : 

" It was on Tuesday, January the 26th, 1830, — a day to 
be hereafter forever memorable in senatorial annals, — that 
the Senate resumed the consideration of Foot's resolution. 
There never was before, in the city, an occasion of so much 
excitement. To witness this great intellectual contest, mul- 
titudes of strangers had for two or three days previous been 
rushing into the city, and the hotels overflowed. As early 
as 9 o'clock of this morning, crowds poured into the Capitol, 
in hot haste ; at 12 o'clock, the hour of meeting, the Senate- 
chamber — its galleries, floor, and even lobbies — was filled to 
its utmost capacity. The very stairways were dark with 
men, who hung on to one another, like bees in a swarm. 

" The House of Representatives was early deserted. An 
adjournment would have hardly made it emptier. The 
Speaker, it is true, retained his chair, but no business of 
moment was or could be attended to. Members all rushed 
in to hear Mr. Webster, and no call of the House or other 
parliamentary proceedings could compel them back. The 
floor of the Senate was so densely crowded, that persons 
once in could not get out, nor change their position ; in the 
rear of the Vice-Presidential chair, the crowd was particularly 
dense. Dixon H. Lewis, then a Representative from Ala- 
bama, became wedged in here. From his enormous size, it 
was impossible for him to move without displacing a vast 
portion of the multitude. Unfortunately, too, for him, he 
was jammed in directly behind the chair of the Vice-Presi- 
dent, where he could not see, and could hardly hear, the 
speaker. By slow and laborious effort, pausing occasionally 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA. 399 



to breathe, he gained one of the windows which, constructed 
of painted glass, flanked the chair of the Vice-President on 
either side. Here he paused, unable to make more headway. 
But, determined to see Mr. Webster as he spoke, with his 
knife he made a large hole in one of the panes of the glass, 
which is still visible as he made it. Many were so placed as 
not to be able to see the speaker at all. The courtesy of 
Senators accorded to the fairer sex room on the floor — the 
most gallant of them their own seats. The gay bonnets 
and brilliant dresses threw a varied and picturesque beauty 
over the scene, softening and embellishing it. 

" Seldom, if ever, has a speaker in this or any other country 
had more powerful incentives to exertion : a subject the de- 
termination of which involved the most important interests, 
and even duration, of the Republic ; competitors, unequalled 
in reputation, ability, or position ; a name to be made still 
more glorious, or lost forever ; and an audience, comprising 
not only persons of this country most prominent in intel- 
lectual greatness, but representatives of other nations, where 
the art of eloquence had flourished for ages. All the soldier 
seeks in opportunity was here. 

" Mr. Webster perceived, and felt equal to, the destinies 
of the moment. The very greatness of the hazard exhilarated 
him. His spirits rose with the occasion. He awaited the 
time of onset with a stern and impartial joy. He felt, like 
the war-horse of the Scriptures, — who ' paweth in the valley, 
and rejoiceth in his strength ; who goeth on to meet the 
armed men, — who sayeth among the trumpets, Ha, ha ! and 
who smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, 
and the shouting.' 

" A confidence in his own resources, springing from no 
vain estimate of his power, but the legitimate offspring of 
previous severe mental discipline, sustained and excited him. 
He had gauged his opponents, his subject, and himself. 

" He was, too, at this period, in the very prime of man- 
hood. He had reached middle age — an era in the life of 
man when the faculties, physical or intellectual, may be 
supposed to attain their fullest organisation and most per- 



400 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



feet development. Whatever there was in him of intellect- 
ual energy and vitality, the occasion, his full life and high 
ambition, might well bring forth. 

" He never rose on an ordinary occasion to address an 
ordinary audience more self-possessed. There was no tremu- 
lousness in his voice nor manner ; nothing hurried, nothing 
simulated. The calmness of superior strength was visible 
everywhere ; in countenance, voice, and bearing. A deep- 
seated conviction of the extraordinary character, of the 
emergency, and of his ability to control it, seemed to pos- 
sess him wholly. If an observer, more than ordinarily keen- 
sighted, detected at times something like exultation in his 
eye, he presumed it sprang from the excitement of the mo- 
ment, and the anticipation of victory. 

"The anxiety to hear the speech was so intense, irre- 
pressible, and universal, that no sooner had the Vice-Presi- 
dent assumed the chair, than a motion was made and 
unanimously carried, to postpone the ordinary preliminaries 
of senatorial action, and to take up immediately the con- 
sideration of the resolution. 

" Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. His ex- 
ordium is known by heart, everywhere : ' Mr. President, 
when the mariner has been tossed, for many days, in thick 
weather, and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails him- 
self of the first pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the 
sun, to take his latitude, and ascertain how far the elements 
have driven him from his true course. Let us imitate this 
prudence ; and before we float farther on the waves of this 
debate, refer to the point from which we departed, that we 
may, at least, be able to form some conjecture where we 
now are. I ask for the reading of the resolution.' 

" There wanted no more to enchain the attention. There 
was a spontaneous, though silent, expression of eager appro- 
bation, as the orator concluded these opening remarks. 
And while the clerk read the resolution, many attempted 
the impossibility of getting near the speaker. Every head 
was inclined closer towards him, every ear turned in the 
direction of his voice — and that deep, sudden, mysterious 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA . 40 1 



silence followed, which always attends fulness of emotion. 
From the sea of upturned faces before him, the orator be- 
held his thoughts reflected as from a mirror. The varying 
countenance, the suffused eye, the earnest smile, and ever- 
attentive look assured him of his audience's entire sympa- 
thy. If among his hearers there were those who affected at 
first an indifference to his glowing thoughts and fervent 
periods, the difficult mask was soon laid aside, and profound, 
undisguised, devoted attention followed. In the earlier part 
of his speech, one of his principal opponents seemed deeply 
engrossed in the careful perusal of a newspaper he held be- 
fore his face ; but this, on nearer approach, proved to be 
upside down. In truth, all, sooner or later, voluntarily, or 
in spite of themselves, were wholly carried away by the 
eloquence of the orator. 

" Those who had doubted Mr. Webster's ability to cope 
with and overcome his opponents were fully satisfied of 
their error before he had proceeded far in his speech. Their 
fears soon took another direction. When they heard his 
sentences of powerful thought, towering in accumulative 
grandeur, one above the other, as if the orator strove, Titan- 
like, to reach the very heavens themselves, they were giddy 
with an apprehension that he would break down in his flight. 
They dared not believe that genius, learning, any intellect- 
ual endowment however uncommon, that was simply 
mortal, could sustain itself long in a career seemingly so 
perillous. They feared an Icarian fall. 

" Ah ! who can ever forget, that was present to hear, the 
tremendous, the awful burst of eloquence with which the 
orator spoke of the Old Bay State ! or the tones of deep 
pathos in which the words were pronounced. 

" ' Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon 

Massachusetts. There she is — behold her, and judge for 

yourselves. There is her history ; the world knows it by 

heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and 

Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill — and there they 

will remain forever. The bones of her sons fallen in the 

great struggle for independence, now mingle with the soil 
26 



402 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



of every State, from New England to Georgia ; and there 
they will lie forever. And, sir, where American Liberty 
raised its first voice ; and where its youth was nurtured and 
sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood 
and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall 
wound it — if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at 
and tear it — if folly and madness — if uneasiness, under salu- 
tary and necessary restraint — shall succeed to separate it 
from that Union by which alone its existence is made sure, 
it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which 
its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm with 
whatever of vigour it may still retain, over the friends who 
gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst 
the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very 
spot of its origin.' 

" What New England heart was there but throbbed with 
vehement, tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as he dwelt 
upon New England sufferings, New England struggles, and 
New England triumphs during the war of the Revolution? 
There was scarcely a dry eye in the Senate ; all hearts were 
overcome ; grave judges and men grown old in dignified 
life turned aside their heads, to conceal the evidences of 
their emotion. 

" In one corner of the gallery was clustered a group of 
Massachusetts men. They had hung from the first moment 
upon the words of the speaker, with feelings variously but 
always warmly excited, deepening in intensity as he pro- 
ceeded. At first, while the orator was going through his 
exordium, they held their breath and hid their faces, mind- 
ful of the savage attacks upon him and New England, and 
the fearful odds against him, her champion ; — as he went 
deeper into his speech, they felt easier ; when he turned 
Haynes's flank on Banquo's ghost, they breathed freer and 
deeper. But now, as he alluded to Massachusetts, their 
feelings were strained to the highest tension ; and when the 
orator, concluding his encomium upon the land of their 
birth, turned, intentionally or otherwise, his burning eye full 
upon them — they shed tears like girls ! 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 403 



" No one who was not present can understand the excite- 
ment of the scene. No one, who was, can give an adequate 
description of it. No word-painting can convey the deep, 
intense enthusiasm, the reverential attention, of that vast 
assembly — nor limner transfer to canvas their earnest, eager, 
awe-struck countenances. Though language were as subtile 
and flexible as thought, it still would be impossible to repre- 
sent the full idea of the scene. There is something intangi- 
ble in an emotion, which cannot be transferred. The nicer 
shades of feeling elude pursuit. Every description, there- 
fore, of the occasion, seems to the narrator himself most 
tame, spiritless, unjust. 

" Much of the instantaneous effect of the speech arose, of 
course, from the orator's delivery, the tones of his voice, his 
countenance and manner. These die mostly with the occasion 
that calls them forth — the impression is lost in the attempt 
at transmission from one mind to another. They can only 
be described in general terms. ' Of the effectiveness of Mr. 
Webster's manner, in many parts,' says Mr. Everett, ' it 
would be in vain to attempt to give any one not present the 
faintest idea. It has been my fortune to hear some of the 
ablest speeches of the greatest living orators on both sides 
of the water, but I must confess I never heard anything 
which so completely realised my conception of what Demos- 
thenes was when he delivered the Oration for the Crown.' 
The variety of incident during the speech, and the rapid 
fluctuation of passions, kept the audience in continual ex- 
pectation and ceaseless agitation. There was no chord of 
the heart the orator did not strike, as with a master-hand. 
The speech was a complete drama of comic and pathetic 
scenes : one varied excitement ; laughter and tears gaining 
alternate victory. 

" A great portion of the speech is strictly argumentative ; 
an exposition of constitutional law. But grave as such por- 
tion necessarily is, severely logical, abounding in no fancy or 
episode, it engrossed throughout the undivided attention of 
every intelligent hearer. Abstractions, under the glowing 
genius of the orator, acquired a beauty, a vitality, a power 



404 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



to thrill the blood and enkindle the affections, awakening into 
earnest activity many a dormant faculty. His ponderous 
syllables had an energy, a vehemence of meaning in them 
that fascinated, while they startled. His thoughts in their 
statuesque beauty merely would have gained all critical judg- 
ment ; but he realised the antique fable, and warmed the 
marble into life. There was a sense of power in his language, 
— of power withheld and suggestive of still greater power, — 
that subdued, as by a spell of mystery, the hearts of all. For 
power whether intellectual or physical, produces in its earliest 
development a feeling closely allied to awe. It was never 
more felt than on this occasion. It had entire mastery. 
The sex which is said to love it best and abuse it most, 
seemed as much or more carried away than the sterner one. 
Many who had entered the hall with light, gay thoughts, 
anticipating at most a pleasurable excitement, soon became 
deeply interested in the speaker and his subject, surrendered 
him their entire heart ; and, when the speech was over, and 
they left the hall, it was with sadder, perhaps, but, surely, 
with far more elevated and ennobling emotions. 

" The exulting rush of feeling with which he went through 
the peroration threw a glow over his countenance, like in- 
spiration. Eye, brow, each feature, every line of the face, 
seemed touched as with a celestial fire. 

" The swell and roll of his voice struck upon the ears of 
the spell-bound audience in deep and melodious cadence, as 
waves upon the far-resounding sea. The Miltonic grandeur 
of his words was the fit expression of his thought and raised 
his hearers up to his theme. His voice, exerted to its 
utmost power, penetrated every recess or corner of the 
Senate, penetrated even the ante-rooms and stairways, as 
he pronounced, in deepest tones of pathos, these words of 
solemn significance : ' When my eyes shall be turned to be- 
hold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him 
shining on the broken and dishonoured fragments of a once 
glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; 
on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in 
fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 405 



rather behold the glorious ensign of the Republic, now 
known and honoured throughout the earth, still full high 
advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original 
lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star 
obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable interroga- 
tory as, What is all this worth ? nor those other words of 
delusion and folly : Liberty first and Union afterwards ; but 
everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, 
blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea 
and over the land, and in every wind under the whole 
heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every American 
heart : Liberty and Union, nolxj and forever, one and in- 
separable.' 

" The speech was over, but the tones of the orator still 
lingered upon the ear, and the audience, unconscious of the 
close, retained their positions. The agitated countenance, 
the heaving breast, the suffused eye, attested the continued 
influence of the spell upon them. Hands that in the excite- 
ment of the moment had sought each other, still remained 
closed in an unconscious grasp. Eye still turned to eye, to 
receive and repay mutual sympathy ; — and everywhere 
around seemed forgetfulness of all but the orator's presence 
and words." 

Mr. Webster in the course of his speech paid a glowing 
tribute to the patriotism of the South during the war of the 
Revolution. He was earnestly desirous of preserving the 
Union. He had a just horror of the vices of the slave sys- 
tem, but he was afraid that the Union could not be preserved 
if the question was agitated, and he preferred the preserva- 
tion of the Union at all hazards. But the friends of Mr. 
Webster always regretted the position he assumed on the 
slave question in the great speech he delivered on the 7th of 
March, 1850, about two years before his death. 

No well-informed statesman either North or South would 
have the brazen effrontery at the present time to advocate 
the mischievous doctrine of secession or nullification. No 
one who has a logical mind can fail to be convinced, after 
reading the Constitution of the United States and the politi- 



406 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



cal history of this country, that the secession notions were 
nonsensical. All great questions which have heretofore 
divided the North and South have happily been settled. It 
is an error, commonly made, that the doctrine of secession 
originated in South Carolina, and that it was first conceived 
by John C. Calhoun, the great Disunionist, the great Seces- 
sionist, the great Nullifier, and the great bad man generally. 

The writer is not a defender of Calhoun's political princi- 
ples, on the contrary he has always opposed them, but he 
certainly did not originate the doctrine of secession, and no 
well-informed statesman will contend that he did. It is 
difficult to trace the origin of secession views. Statesmen 
North, South, and West have held them at various times. 
One of the first traces of the secession doctrine is to be 
found in the Abridged Congressional Debates, vol. iv., page 
327. According to the Record, Mr. Josiah Quincy, of 
Massachusetts, while discussing, (181 1) a bill for the admis- 
sion of what was then called the Orleans Territory, now 
Louisiana into the Union as a State, said, with the approval 
of many of his colleagues, that Congress did not have the 
power to admit into the Union a foreign state, whose territory 
was not a part of the original domain at the time of the 
adoption of the Constitution and the formation of the Union 
consummated. Mr. Quincy said, that if the bill was passed 
and Orleans (what is now Louisiana) was admitted, the act 
would be subversive of the Union, and each State would be 
freed from its federal bonds and obligations, " and that as it 
will be, the right of all (the States) so it will be the duty of 
some, to prepare definitely for a separation — amicably if they 
can, violently if they must." Afterward he committed what 
he had said to writing, in order to avoid mistake, in the fol- 
lowing language : 

"If this bill passes, it is my deliberate opinion that it is vir- 
tually a dissolution of the Union ; that it will free the States 
from their moral obligation, and as it will be the right of all, 
so it will be the duty of >me, definitely to prepare for a 
separation — c.micably if t can, violently if they must." 

Doctrines if a simib aracter were advocated a few 



ORATORY IN AMERICA, 407 



years afterward at the famous Hartford Convention. Even 
prior to Quincy's time the doctrine had doubtless been 
enunciated. 

Webster's magnificent speech, the greatest, in many re- 
spects, ever made by an orator in ancient or modern times, 
did incalculable service to his country. 

The same year Mr. Webster made an eloquent forensic 
address on the trial of John Francis Knapp, for the murder 
of Captain Joseph White, of Salem, Mass. 

When reminding the jury of the obligation they were under 
to discharge their duty, he said in part: 

" Gentlemen : Your whole concern should be to do your 
duty, and leave consequences to take care of themselves. 
You will receive the law from the court. Your verdict 't is 
true may endanger the prisoner's life ; but then it is to save 
other lives. If the prisoner's guilt has been shown and 
proved, beyond all reasonable doubt, you will convict 
him. If such reasonable doubt of guilt remain, you will 
acquit him. You are the judges of the whole case. You owe 
a duty to the public, as well as to the prisoner at the bar. 
You cannot presume to be wiser than the law. Your duty 
is a plain straightforward one. Doubtless, we would all judge 
him in mercy. Towards him, as an individual, the law incul- 
cates no hostility ; but towards him, if proved to be a mur- 
derer, the law, and the oaths you have taken, and public 
justice, demand that you do your duty. 

" With consciences satisfied with the discharge of duty, 
no consequences can harm you. There is no evil that we 
cannot either face or fly from, but the consciousness of duty 
disregarded. 

" A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, like 
the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of the morn- 
ing and dwell in the utmost parts of the seas, duty performed, 
or duty violated, is still with us, for our happiness or our 
misery. If we say the darkness shall cover us, in the dark- 
ness, as in the light our obligations are yet with us. We 
cannot escape their power, nor fly from their presence. They 
are with us in this life, will be with us at its close ; and in 



408 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



that scene of inconceivable solemnity, which lies yet farther 
onward — we shall still find ourselves surrounded by the con- 
sciousness of duty, to pain us wherever it has been violated, 
and to console us so far as God may have given us grace to 
perform it." 

Mr. Webster in his picture of the self-betrayal of 
the murderer, shows a profound knowledge of human 
nature : 

" Ah ! gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a 
secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has 
neither nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it, and 
say it is safe. Not to speak of that eye which glances through 
all disguises, and beholds everything as in the splendour of 
noon — such secrets of guilt are never safe from detection, 
even by men. True it is, generally speaking, that ' murder 
will out.' True it is, that Providence hath so ordained, and 
doth so govern things, that those who break the great law of 
heaven, by shedding man's blood, seldom succeed in avoid- 
ing discovery. Especially, in a case exciting so much atten- 
tion as this, discovery must come, and will come sooner or 
later. A thousand eyes turn at once to explore every 
man, every thing, every circumstance, connected with the 
time and place ; a thousand ears catch every whisper ; a thou- 
sand excited minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding 
all their light, and ready to kindle the slightest circumstance 
into a blaze of discovery. Meantime the guilty soul cannot 
keep its own secret. It is false to itself ; or rather it feels 
an irresistible impulse of conscience to be true to itself. It 
labours under its guilty possession, and knows not what to do 
with it. The human heart was not made for the residence of 
such an inhabitant. It finds itself preyed on by a torment, 
which it dares not acknowledge to God or man. A vulture is 
devouring it, and it can ask no sympathy or assistance, either 
from heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer pos- 
sesses soon comes to possess him ; and, like the evil spirits 
of which we read, it overcomes him, and leads him whither- 
soever it will. He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his 
throat, and demanding disclosure. He thinks the whole 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 409 



world sees it in his face, reads it in his eyes, and almost hears 
its workings in the very silence of his thoughts. It has be- 
come his master. It betrays his discretion, it breaks down 
his courage, it conquers his prudence. When suspicions, 
from without, begin to embarrass him, and the net of circum- 
stance to entangle him, the fatal secret struggles with still 
greater violence to burst forth. It must be confessed, it will 
be confessed, there is no refuge from confession but suicide, 
and suicide is confession." 

And in the same speech, with what great ability does he 
set forth his theory of the murderer's plan : 

'" Let me ask your attention, then, in the first place, 
to those appearances on the morning after the murder, 
which have a tendency to show that it was done in pursu- 
ance of a preconcerted plan of operation. What are they? 
A man was found murdered in his bed. No stranger had 
done the deed — no one acquainted with the house had done 
it. It was apparent, that somebody from within had opened, 
and somebody from without had entered. There had been 
there, obviously and certainly, concert and co-operation. 
The inmates of the house were not alarmed when the mur- 
der was perpetrated. The assassin had entered, without 
any riot, or any violence. He had found the way prepared 
before him. The house had been previously opened. The 
window was unbarred, from within, and its fastenings un- 
screwed. There was a lock on the door of the chamber in 
which Mr. White slept, but the key was gone. It had been 
taken away, and secreted. The footsteps of the murderer 
were visible, out-doors, tending toward the window. The 
plank by which he entered the window still remained. The 
road he pursued had been thus prepared for him. The vic- 
tim was slain, and the murderer had escaped. Everything 
indicated that somebody from within had co-operated with 
somebody from without. Everything proclaimed that some 
of the inmates, or somebody having access to the house, had 
had a hand in the murder. On the face of the circumstan- 
ces, it was apparent, therefore, that this was a premeditated, 
concerted, conspired murder. Who, then, were the conspir- 



410 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



ators ? If not now found out, we are still groping in the 
dark, and the whole tragedy is still a mystery." 

When the Bunker Hill Monument was completed in 1843, 
Mr. Webster was invited to deliver an oration on the occa- 
sion. 

At least one hundred thousand people were present. 

The eloquence of the following remarkable passage com- 
pels its insertion here. Mr. Webster said : 

" A duty has been performed. A work of gratitude and 
patriotism is completed. This structure, having its founda- 
tions in soil which drank deep of early Revolutionary blood, 
has at length reached its destined height, and now lifts its 
summit to the skies. 

" The Bunker Hill Monument is finished. Here it stands. 
Fortunate in the high natural eminence in which it is placed, 
higher, infinitely higher, in its objects and purpose, it rises 
over the land and over the sea ; and, visible, at their homes, 
to three hundred thousand of the people of Massachusetts, 
it stands a memorial of the last, and a monitor to the pres- 
ent and to all succeeding generations. I have spoken of the 
loftiness of its purpose. If it had been without any other 
design than the creation of a work of art, the granite of which 
it is composed would have slept in its native bed. It has a 
purpose, and that purpose gives it character. That purpose 
enrobes it with dignity and moral grandeur. That well- 
known purpose it is which causes us to look up to it with a 
feeling of awe. It is itself the orator of this occasion. It is 
not from my lips, it could not be from any human lips, that 
that strain of eloquence is this day to flow most competent 
to move and excite the vast multitudes around me. The 
powerful speaker stands motionless before us. It is a plain 
shaft. It bears no inscriptions, fronting to the rising sun, 
from which the future antiquary shall wipe the dust. Nor 
does the rising sun cause tones of music to issue from its 
summit. But at the rising of the sun, and at the setting of 
the sun, in the blaze of noonday, and beneath the milder 
effulgence of lunar light, it looks, it speaks, it acts, to the 
full comprehension of every American mind, and the awak- 



OR A TOR Y IN A M ERICA . 4 1 1 



ening of glowing enthusiasm in every American heart. Its 
silent, but awful utterance ; its deep pathos, as it brings to 
our contemplation the 17th of June, 1775, and the conse- 
quences which have resulted to us, to our country, and to 
the world, from the events of that day, and which we know 
must continue to rain influence on the destinies of mankind 
to the end of time ; the elevation with which it raises us 
high above the ordinary feeling of life, surpass all that the 
study of the closet, or even the inspiration of genius, can 
produce. To-day it speaks to us. Its future auditories will 
be the successive generations' of men, as they rise up before 
it and gather around it. Its speech will be of patriotism 
and courage ; of civil and religious liberty ; of free govern- 
ment ; of the moral improvement and elevation of mankind ; 
and of the immortal memory of those who, with heroic devo- 
tion, have sacrificed their lives for their country." 

In this connection, the writer is of the opinion, that the 
following beautiful and eloquent passage from the speech of 
Kossuth, the Hungarian patriot, cannot fail to prove inter- 
esting to the intelligent reader : 

" My voice shrinks from the task to mingle with the awful 
pathos of that orator [pointing to the monument]. Silent 
like the grave, and yet melodious like the song of immor- 
tality upon the lips of cherubim, — senseless, cold granite, 
and yet warm with inspiration like a patriot's heart, — im- 
movable like the past, and yet stirring like the future, 
which never stops, — it looks like a prophet, and speaks like 
an oracle. And thus it speaks : 

" ' The day I commemorate is the rod with which the 
hand of the Lord has opened the well of Liberty. Its waters 
will flow ; every new drop of martyr blood will increase the 
tide. Despots may dam its flood, but never stop it. The 
higher its dam, the higher the tide ; it will overflow, or break 
through. 

" ' Bow, and adore, and hope ! ' 

" Such are the words which come to my ears ; and I bow, 
I adore, I hope ! 

" In bowing, my eyes meet the soil of Bunker Hill — that 



412 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



awful opening scene of the eventful drama to which Lexing- 
ton and Concord had been the preface. 

" The spirits of the past rise before my eyes. I see Richard 
Gridley hastily planning the entrenchments. I hear the dull, 
cold, blunt sound of the pickaxe and spade in the hands of 
the patriot band. I hear the patrols say that ' all is well.' 
I see Knowlton raising his line of rail fence, upon which soon 
the guns will rest, that the bullets may prove to their mes- 
sage true. I see the tall, commanding form of Prescott 
marching leisurely around the parapet, inflaming the tired 
patriots with the classical words that those who had the 
merit of the labour should have the honour of the victory. I 
see Asa Pollard fall, the first victim of that immortal day ; I 
see the chaplain praying over him ; and now the roaring of 
cannon from ships and from batteries, and the blaze of the 
burning town, and the thrice-renewed storm, and the persever- 
ing defence, till powder was gone, and but stones remained. 
And I see Warren telling Elbridge Gerry that it is sweet and 
fair to die for the fatherland. I see him lingering in his retreat, 
and, struck in the forehead, fall to the ground ; and Pom- 
eroy with his shattered musket in his brave hand, complain- 
ing that he remained unhurt when Warren had to die ; and 
I see all the brave who fell unnamed, unnoticed, and un- 
known, the nameless corner-stones of American indepen- 
dence ! " 

The last of Mr. Webster's patriotic addresses was deliv- 
ered on the 4th of July, 185 1, at the magnificent ceremonial 
of the laying of the corner-stone of the addition to the Capi- 
tol. It was one of the greatest of his orations. It was natu- 
ral that the orator should refer to the illustrious Washington, 
who, in 1793, had laid the corner-stone of the original Capi- 
tql. " The allusion and apostrophe to Washington will be 
rehearsed by the generous youth of America as long as the 
English language is spoken on this side of the Atlantic 
Ocean," said Everett. In the following lines we have the 
beautiful allusion and apostrophe : 

" Fellow-citizens, what contemplations are awakened in 
our minds as we assemble here to re-enact a scene like that 



OR A TOR Y IN A ME RICA . 4 1 3 



performed by Washington ! Methinks I see his venerable 
form now before me, as presented in the glorious statue by 
Houdon, now in the Capitol of Virginia. He is dignified 
and grave, but concern and anxiety seem to soften the 
lineaments of his countenance. The government over which 
he presides is yet in the crisis of experiment. Not free 
from troubles at home, he sees the world in commotion and 
in arms all around him. He sees that imposing foreign 
powers are half disposed to try the strength of the recently 
established American government. We perceive that mighty 
thoughts, mingled with fears as well as with hopes, are 
struggling within him. He heads a short procession over 
these then naked fields ; he crosses yonder stream on a 
fallen tree ; he ascends to the top of this eminence, whose 
original oaks of the forest stand as thick around him as if 
the spot had been devoted to Druidical worship, and here 
he performs the appointed duty of the day. 

" And now, fellow-citizens, if this vision were a reality ; if 
Washington actually were now amongst us, and if he could 
draw around him the shades of the great public men of his 
own day, patriots and warriors, orators and statesmen, and 
were to address us in their presence, would he not say to 
us: 'Ye men of this generation, I rejoice and thank God 
for being able to see that our labours and toils and sacrifices 
were not in vain. You are prosperous, you are happy, you 
are grateful ; the fire of liberty burns brightly and steadily 
in your hearts, while duty and the law restrain it from burst- 
ing forth in wild and destructive conflagration. Cherish 
liberty, as you love it ; cherish its securities, as you wish to 
preserve it. Maintain the Constitution which we laboured 
so painfully to establish, and which has been to you such a 
source of inestimable olessings. Preserve the union of the 
States, cemented as it was by our prayers, our tears, and 
our blood. Be true to God, to your country, and to your 
duty. So shall the whole eastern world follow the morning 
sun to contemplate you as a nation ; so shall all generations 
honour you, as they honour us; and so shall that Almighty 
Power which so graciously protected us, and which now 



4H HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



protects you, shower its everlasting blessings upon you and 
your posterity.' 

" Great Father of your Country ! we heed your words ; 
we feel their force as if you now uttered them with lips of 
flesh and blood. Your example teaches us, your affection- 
ate addresses teach us, your public life teaches us, your 
sense of the value of the blessings of the Union. Those 
blessings our fathers have tasted, and we have tasted, and 
still taste. Nor do we intend that those who come after us 
shall be denied the same high fruition. Our honour as well 
as our happiness is concerned. We can not, we dare not, 
we will not, betray our sacred trust. We will not filch from 
posterity the treasure placed in our hands to be transmitted 
to other generations. The bow that gilds the clouds in the 
heavens, the pillars that uphold the firmament, may disap- 
pear and fall away in the hour appointed by the will of 
God ; but until that day comes, or so long as our lives may 
last, no ruthless hand shall undermine that bright arch of 
Union and Liberty which spans the continent from Wash- 
ington to California." 

Mr. Webster's standard of American citizenship was high, 
and he had a just notion of the mental and moral qualifica- 
tions necessary to fit a statesman for the discharge of his 
duties as a Representative in Congress. He was unremit- 
ting in his endeavours to cultivate his great intellectual 
faculties, and to develop his latent energies. His golden 
words as to the responsibility of an American citizen should 
ever be held in remembrance by all patriots : 

" Let us cherish, fellow-citizens, a deep and solemn con- 
viction of the duties which have devolved upon us. This 
lovely land, this glorious liberty, these benign institutions, 
the dear purchase of our fathers, are ours ; ours to enjoy, 
ours to preserve, ours to transmit. Generations past, and 
generations to come, hold us responsible for this sacred trust. 
Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, with their anxious 
paternal voices ; posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of 
the future ; the world turns hither its solicitous eyes — all, 
all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the relation 



ORATORY JN AMERICA. 415 



which we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the debt 
which is upon us ; but by virtue, by morality, by religion r 
by the cultivation of every good principle and every good 
habit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing, through our day, 
and to leave it unimpaired to our children. Let us feel 
deeply how much of what we are and of what we possess, 
we owe to this liberty, and these institutions of government. 
Nature has, indeed, given us a soil, which yields bounteously 
to the hands of industry ; the mighty and fruitful ocean is be- 
fore us, and the skies over our heads shed health and vigour. 
But what are lands, and seas, and skies, to civilised men, 
without society, without knowledge, without morals, without 
religious culture ; and how can these be enjoyed, in all their 
extent, and all their excellence, but under the protection of 
wise institutions and a free government ? Fellow-citizens, 
there is not one of us, there is not one of us here present, who 
does not, at this moment, and at every moment, experience 
in his own condition, and in the condition of those most 
near and dear to him, the influence and the benefit of this 
liberty and these institutions. Let us then acknowledge 
the blessing, let us feel it deeply and powerfully ; let us 
cherish a strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain and 
perpetuate it. The blood of our fathers — let it not have 
been shed in vain ; the great hope of posterity — let it not 
be blasted." 

On the 23d day of February, 1852, Mr. Webster delivered, 
before the New York Historical Society, an exceedingly 
interesting and instructive address from which we take the 
following extract which deserves careful attention : 

" Unborn ages and visions of glory crowd upon my soul, 
the realisation of all which, however, is in the hands and 
good pleasure of Almighty God ; but, under his Divine bless- 
ing, it will be dependent on the character and the virtues of 
ourselves and of our posterity. If classical history has 
been found to be, is now, and shall continue to be, the con- 
comitant of free institutions and of popular eloquence, what 
a field is opening to us for another Herodotus, another 
Thucydides, and another Livy ! 



416 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" And let me say, gentlemen, that if we and our posterity 
shall be true to the Christian religion, — if we and they shall 
live always in the fear of God, and shall respect his com- 
mandments, — if we and they shall maintain just, moral 
sentiments, and such conscientious convictions of duty as 
shall control the heart and life, we may have the highest 
hopes of the future fortunes of our country ; and if we 
maintain those institutions of government and that political* 
union, exceeding all praise as much as it exceeds all former 
examples of political associations, we may be sure of one 
thing — that, while our country furnishes materials for a 
thousand masters of the historic art, it will afford no topic 
for a Gibbon. It will have no Decline and Fall. It will go 
on prospering and to prosper. 

" But, if we and our posterity reject religious instruction 
and authority, violate the rules of eternal justice, trifle with 
the injunctions of morality, and recklessly destroy the polit- 
ical constitution which holds us together, no man can tell 
how sudden a catastrophe may overwhelm us, that shall bury 
all our glory in profound obscurity. Should that catastrophe 
happen, let it have no history ! Let the horrible narrative 
never be written ! Let its fate be like that of the lost books 
of Livy, which no human eye shall ever read ; or the miss- 
ing Pleiad, of which no man can ever know more, than that 
it is" lost, and lost forever ! 

" But, gentlemen, I will not take my leave of you in a tone 
of despondency. We may trust that Heaven will not for- 
sake us, nor permit us to forsake ourselves. We must 
strengthen ourselves, and gird up our loins with new resolu- 
tion ; we must counsel each other ; and, determined to sus- 
tain each other in the support of the Constitution, prepare 
to meet, manfully, and united, whatever of difficulty or of 
danger, whatever of effort or of sacrifice, the providence of 
God may call upon us to meet. 

" Are we of this generation so derelict, have we so little 
of the blood of our revolutionary fathers coursing through 
our veins, that we cannot preserve what they achieved ? The 
world will cry out ' SHAME ' upon us, if we show ourselves 



OR A TOR Y IN A ME RICA . 4 1 7 



umvoithy to be the descendants of those great and illustrious 
men, who fought for their liberty, and secured it to their 
posterity, by the Constitution of the United States. 

" Gentlemen, inspiring auspices, this day, surround us and 
cheer us. It is the anniversary of the birth of Washington. 
We should know this, even if we had lost our calendars, for 
we should be reminded of it by the shouts of joy and glad- 
fiess. The whole atmosphere is redolent of his name ; hills 
and forests, rocks and rivers echo and re-echo his praises. 
All the good, whether learned or unlearned, high or low, 
rich or poor, feel, this day, that there is one treasure com- 
mon to them all, and that is the fame and character of Wash- 
ington. They recount his deeds, ponder over his principles 
and teachings, and resolve to be more and more guided by 
them in the future. 

" To the old and the young, to all born in the land, and 
to all whose love of liberty has brought them from foreign 
shores to make this the home of their adoption, the name of 
Washington is this day an exhilarating theme. Americans 
by birth are proud of his character, and exiles from foreign 
shores are eager to participate in admiration of him ; and it 
is true that he is, this day, here, everywhere, all the world 
over, more an object of love and regard than on any day 
since his birth. 

" Gentlemen, on Washington's principles, and under 
the guidance of his example, will we and our children up- 
hold the Constitution. Under his military leadership our 
fathers conquered ; and under the outspread banner of his 
political and constitutional principles will we also conquer. 
To that standard we shall adhere, and uphold it through 
evil report and through good report. We will meet danger, 
we will meet death, if they come, in its protection ; and we 
will struggle on, in daylight and in darkness, ay, in the 
thickest darkness, with all the storms which it may bring 
with it, till 

* Danger's troubled night is o'er 
And the star of Peace return.' " 



41 8 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Mr. Webster died on the quiet Sabbath morning of the 
24th of October, 1852. 

An account of the last hours of Mr. Webster has been 
given by an able speaker, which the writer will quote : 

" Among the many memorable words which fell from the 
lips of our friend just before they were closed forever, the 
most remarkable are those which have been quoted by a 
previous speaker : * I still live' They attest the serene 
composure of his mind; the Christian heroism with which 
he was able to turn his consciousness in upon himself, and 
explore, step by step, the dark passage (dark to us, but to 
him, we trust, already lighted from above) which connects 
this world with the world to come. But I know not what 
words could have been better chosen to express his relation 
to the world he was leaving — ' I still live.' This poor dust 
is just returning to the dust from which it was taken, but I 
feel that I live in the affections of the people to whose ser- 
vices I have consecrated my days. ' I still live.' The icy 
hand of death is already laid on my heart, but I shall still 
live in those words of counsel w r hich I have uttered to my 
fellow-citizens, and which I now leave them as the last be- 
quest of a dying friend. 

" In the long and honoured career of our lamented friend, 
there are efforts and triumphs which will hereafter fill one of 
the brighest pages of our history. But I greatly err if the 
closing scene — the height of the religious sublime — does not, 
in the judgment of other days, far transcend in interest the 
brightest exploits of public life. Within that darkened 
chamber at Marshfield was witnessed a scene of which we 
shall not readily find the parallel. 

" The serenity with which he stood in the presence of 
the King of Terrors, without trepidation or flutter, for hours 
and days of expectation ; the thoughtfulness for the public 
business, when the sands were so nearly run out ; the hos- 
pitable care for the reception of the friends who came to 
Marshfield ; that affectionate and solemn leave separately 
taken, name by name, of wife and children and kindred and 
friends and family, down to the humblest members of the 



OR A TOR Y IN A M ERICA . 4 1 9 



household ; the designation of the coming day, then near 
at hand, when ' all that was mortal of Daniel Webster 
should cease to exist ! ' the dimly recollected strains of the 
funeral poetry of Gray ; the last faint flash of the soaring 
intellect ; the feebly murmured words of Holy Writ repeated 
from the lips of the good physician, who, when all the 
resources of human art had been exhausted, had a drop of 
spiritual balm for the parting soul ; the clasped hands ; the 
dying prayers. Oh ! my fellow citizens, this is a consumma- 
tion over which tears of pious sympathy will be shed ages 
after the glories of the forum and the senate are forgotten. 

' His sufferings ended with the day, 
Yet lived he at its close ; 
And breathed the long, long night away, 
In statue-like repose.' " 

Mr. Webster was very fond of the study of geology, 
astronomy, and the classics. One of his biographers says : 
" At one time, while conversing on the subject of reading, 
and of topics worth the attention of men, he said he wished 
he could live three lives, while living this : 

" One he would devote to the study of Geology, or, to use 
his own words, ' to reading the earth's history of itself.' 

" Another life he would devote to Astronomy ; he said he 
had lately been reading the history of that science, written 
so clearly, that he, although no mathematician, could under- 
stand it, and he was astonished, at seeing to what heights it 
had been pushed by modern intellects. 

" The other life he would devote to the Classics." 

The following is an interesting account of the reception of 
Mr. Webster, and of the effect of one of his speeches on a 
popular assembly in New Hampshire, given by a stranger 
who happened to be present : 

" At early candle-light he went to the caucus room ; it was 
filled to overflowing, but some persons, seeing that he was a 
stranger, gave way, and he found a convenient place to 
stand ; no one could sit. A tremendous noise soon an- 
nounced that the orator had arrived : but as soon as the 



420 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



meeting was organised, another arose to make some remarks 
on the object of the caucus ; he was heard with a polite 
apathy ; another and another came, and all spoke well, but 
this would not do, and if Chatham had been among them, 
or St. Paul, they would not have met the expectations of 
the multitude. The beloved orator at length arose, and was 
for a while musing upon something which was drowned by 
a constant cheering ; but when order was restored he went 
on, with great serenity and ease, to make his remarks with- 
out apparently making the slightest attempt to gain ap- 
plause. The audience was still, except now and then a 
murmur of delight which showed that the great mass of the 
hearers were ready to burst into a thunder of applause, if 
those who generally set the example would have given an in- 
timation that it might have been done ; but they, devouring 
every word, made signs to prevent any interruption. The 
harangue was ended ; the roar of applause lasted long, and 
was sincere and heartfelt. It was a strong, gentlemanly, and 
appropriate speech, but not a particle of the demagogue 
about it ; nothing like the speeches on the hustings to catch 
attention. He drew a picture of the candidates on both 
sides of the question, and proved, as far as reason could 
prove, the superiority of those of his own choice ; but the 
gentleman traveller, who was a very good judge, has often 
said that the most extraordinary part of it was, that a pro- 
miscuous audience should have had good sense enough to 
relish such sound, good reasoning in a place where vague 
declamation is best received." 

The traveller pursued his journey toward the east, but to 
his great surprise the speech of Webster had preceded him, 
and was the common theme of conversation in every hotel 
and other public place. 

The following picture of Mr. Webster is well drawn : 
" The person of Mr. Webster is singular and commanding ; 
his height is above the ordinary size, but he cannot be called 
tall ; he is broad across the chest, and stoutly and firmly built, 
but there is nothing of clumsiness either in his form or gait. 
His head is very large, his forehead high, with good shaped 



OR A TOR Y I 1ST A ME RICA . 42 1 



temples. He has a large, black, solemn-looking eye that 
exhibits strength and steadfastness, and which sometimes 
burns but seldom sparkles. His hair is of a raven black, and 
both thick and short, without the mark of a grey hair. His 
eyebrows are of the same colour, thick and strongly marked, 
which gives his features the appearance of sternness; but 
the general expression of his face, after it is properly exam- 
ined, is rather mild and amiable than otherwise. His move- 
ments in the house and in the s f reet are slow and dignified ; 
there is no peculiar sweetness in his voice, its tones are 
rather harsh than musical, still there is a great variety in 
them, and some of them catch the ear and chain it down to 
the most perfect attention. He bears traces of great mental 
labour, but no marks of age ; in fact, his person is more 
imposing now, in his forty-eighth year, than it was at thirty 
years of age." 

A talented English writer who saw Mr. Webster in London 
in 1839 gi ves the following portrait of the great statesman : 

" Mr. Webster's personal appearance is particularly striking. 
He has a very large, massive head ; his forehead is, I think, 
the most ample in its proportions of all the foreheads I have 
ever witnessed. It is remarkably striking on various accounts. 
It is, first of all, exceedingly broad ; and, though of a sloping 
or receding shape towards the summit, it prominently pro- 
trudes at the eyebrows. A little above the eyes it is quite 
flat. The level part is the more observable, from the circum- 
stance of its being so full in all other places. Its unusual 
loftiness is displayed to greater advantage owing to the com- 
parative absence of hair in the front. Let no one infer from 
this that Mr. Webster is bald-headed ; he is nothing of the 
kind ; he has as ' fine a head of hair,' to use the favourite 
phraseology of perruquiers, as the great admirers of that 
commodity could wish to possess. It is of a jet-black hue if 
seen some yards distant, but a nearer inspection will discern 
an incipient darkish grey in some of its tufts. It is carelessly 
arranged on the learned gentleman's head. . . . Mr. 
Webster's head, large as it is in every department, has a 
peculiarly full development in the locality of the temples. 



422 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



His eyebrows are quite black ; and, between their extra- 
ordinary size and the amazing quantity of hair on them, are 
perhaps the most prominent ever seen on the face either of 
an Englishman or a native of the United States. They 
overlap the eyes (which, I should observe, are unusually 
deeply set) in a very marked manner. Mr. Webster's large 
dark eyes are full of expression. His features are generally 
prominent, but his nose is particularly so, in consequence of 
its narrow ridge and aquiline conformation. His face has a 
copper complexion ; and though Mr. Webster is a man who 
has performed herculean labours for many years past, both 
at the bar and in the senate, there is not on it the slightest 
appearance of wrinkles, nor any other indication of anxiety 
or over-exertion. His countenance has a fresh and healthful 
appearance ; its habitual expression is that of thoughtfulness; 
at times it would indicate a reserve amounting to taciturnity. 
It is in other respects in perfect accordance with what we 
know to be the leading attributes of his mental character. 
No one could look on the countenance of Daniel Webster 
without coming to the conclusion that he is a man of great 
energy of mind, and of indomitable moral courage — a person 
whom no power in the world could dismay — a man who is 
not to be diverted from his purpose by any earthly consider- 
ation. And in happy keeping with his mental decision is his 
outward frame. Though not above the ordinary height, he 
is evidently a man of great muscular power ; he is broad and 
firmly built, especially about the shoulders. His frame alto- 
gether has an unusual appearance of robustness about it. 
He is such a man as would, had his destiny placed him in the 
humbler ranks of life, been singled out from a hundred others 
for his assumed capabilities for performing hard manual 
labour. . . . His appearance and manners are plain. He 
has more the aspect of a farmer living in the country than of 
one whose time is principally spent among judges, lawyers, 
legislators, and the commercial aristocrats of the leading 
cities of the United States. He wears a brown coat with a 
velvet collar, a buff waistcoat, dark small-clothes, and Wel- 
lington boots." 



OR A TOR Y IN A ME RICA . 423 



When Mr. Webster arose to address the Senate the de- 
scription given by Milton of one of his characters could have 
been fittingly applied to him : 

" With grave 
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven 

Deliberation sat, and public care 

His look 
Drew audience and attention still as night 
Or summer's noontide air." 

It may be of interest to young men desirous of studying 
Mr. Webster's methods of preparing his speeches to know 
that he did not depend altogether upon the inspiration of 
the moment for the language or the thoughts which he 
meant to use. The impression has been current that his 
great speeches were unstudied. He said on one occasion 
that he would as soon think of appearing before an audience 
half-clothed as half-prepared, and at another time he told 
one of his friends that he would as soon stand up ancl tell 
his audience that he had garments enough at home, but did 
not think it worth while to put them on, as to tell them that 
he could have made a satisfactory speech, perhaps, if he had 
taken the requisite pains. Mr. Webster was always a labori- 
ous student, and in the early part of his career he expended 
much time in the preparation of his public addresses. 

An entertaining writer, General Lyman, says : " He hap- 
pened to be dining with a company of friends a few years 
since, when the first message of an eminent public man, then 
Governor of the State of New York, was issued and became 

the subject of conversation. ' Governor W T ,' said Mr. 

Webster, on being appealed to for his opinion, ' is a very able 
man and a very able writer — the only thing he needs to learn 
is how to scratch out! A Senator of the United States ex- 
pressed some surprise at this remark, and said that no one 
who read Mr. Webster's addresses, or listened to his speeches, 
could suppose that he ever had occasion to alter or amend any- 
thing that came from his pen. ' However that may be now/ 



424 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



replied Mr. Webster, ' a very large part of my life has been 
spent in "scratching out." When I was a young man, and 
for some years after I had acquired a respectable degree of 
eminence in my profession, my style was bombastic and 
pompous in the extreme. Some kind friend was good 
enough to point out that fact to me, and I determined to 
correct it, if labour could do it. Whether it has been cor- 
rected or not, no small part of my life has been spent in the 
attempt.' " 

Clay. — " I would rather be right than be President." 
The utterance of these words alone would have immortalised 
the subject of this sketch. Henry Clay was born in Han- 
over County, Virginia, on the 12th day of April, 1777. He 
was the son of John Clay, a Baptist minister, poor but 
highly respected. Mr. Clay's father died when he was four 
years old, leaving a widow and eight children. Clay's mother 
was affectionate, devoted, intelligent, and heroic, and by care- 
fully husbanding her small resources she succeeded in sending 
Clay to school. The teacher, to whom Clay was sent, Peter 
Deacon, was more noted for his love of liquor than his love 
of learning, but if he did not teach his pupils very much, he 
did thrash the most of them soundly on the slightest provo- 
cation, and abo.ut the only thing which Clay remembered 
after he left Mr. Deacon's school was the severe drubbings 
which that gentleman had from time to time given him. 

Clay, when he had nothing else to do, after his graduation 
from the seat of learning presided over by the irascible Mr. 
Deacon, spent his time in going to mill, mounted on a horse 
without a saddle, guided by a rope bridle, with a bag of corn 
or meal to sit on ; ploughing, chopping wood, and other 
light and enjoyable work of a similar character. His neigh- 
bours called him " the mill-boy of the Slashes," and when in 
after years the great man was nominated for the presidency 
the nickname became a term of endearment to his hundreds 
of thousands of enthusiastic admirers and supporters. 

Having early in life been compelled to buffet continually 
the storms of adverse fortune, he always sympathised warmly 
with the poor in their privations. 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 425 



Clay's friends succeeded in getting a position for him in 
the office of the Clerk of the High Court of Chancery in 
Richmond, Va. While in the office Clay became acquainted 
with Hon. George Wythe, then the Chancellor of the High 
Court of Chancery. Mr. Wythe was a man of ability and 
culture, and became much attached to Clay. He advised 
Clay to study law, and selected him as his amanuensis in 
writing out his official decisions. Clay and his patron spent 
much of their time together. Mr. Wythe directed Clay's 
grammatical, legal, and historical studies. 

While in the Clerk's office, Clay became acquainted with 
the most distinguished men in the State, and attracted their 
attention strongly by his talents and amiable qualities. 

After studying law for one year he was admitted to the 
bar. . He removed soon after to Lexington, Ky., where he 
resided till his death. When Mr. Clay entered on the duties 
of his profession at Lexington, his prospects were not very 
flattering. Afterward, referring to this period of his life, he 
said : " I was without patrons, without friends, and destitute 
of the means of paying my weekly board. I remember how 
comfortable I thought I should be if I could make £\oo 
Virginia money, per annum, and with what delight I received 
the first fifteen-shilling fee. My hopes were more than 
realised ; I immediately rushed into a lucrative practice." 

As a lawyer and as a politician Mr. Clay was justly cele- 
brated for his tact. He was perfectly familiar with the 
manners and customs of the farmers, mechanics, and labour- 
ers, and always had a pleasant word for them, not 
because he hoped to be benefited by them, but because he 
loved them sincerely, devotedly, and hoped to aid them by 
the passage of beneficent legislative measures, and by the 
improvement of their respective conditions. Mr. Clay was 
a warm-hearted philanthropist, and his life was spent in 
continual labour for the public welfare. He knew how to 
win the affections of the people, by entering into their 
sports and pastimes as well as by taking an interest in their 
occupations and business pursuits. 

An incident is related by one of his biographers which 



426 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



illustrates his tact in seizing and turning to good account 
circumstances comparatively trivial : " He had been engaged 
in speaking some time, when a company of riflemen who 
had been performing military exercise, attracted by his atti- 
tude, concluded to go and hear what that fellow had to say, 
as they termed it, and accordingly drew near. They listened 
with respectful attention and evidently with deep interest 
until he closed, when one of their number, a man about fifty 
years of age, who had evidently seen much backwoods ser- 
vice, stood leaning on his rifle, regarding the young speaker 
with a fixed and most sagacious look. He was apparently 
the Nimrod of the company, for he exhibited every charac- 
teristic of a mighty hunter, — buckskin breeches and hunting 
shirt, coon-skin cap, black, bushy beard, and a visage which, 
had it been in juxtaposition with his leathern bullet-pouch, 
might have been taken for part and parcel of the same. At 
his belt hung the knife and hatchet, and the huge indispen- 
sable powder-horn across a breast bare and brown as the 
bleak hills he often traversed, yet which concealed as brave 
and noble a heart as ever beat beneath a fairer covering. 
He beckoned with his hand to Mr. Clay to approach him, 
who immediately complied. ' Young man,' said he, ' you 
want to go to the legislature, I see ? ' ' Why, yes,' replied 
Mr. Clay, 'yes, I should like to go, since my friends have 
seen proper to put me up as a candidate before the people ; 
I do not wish to be defeated.' — 'Are you a good shot?' 
— ' The best in the county.' — ' Then you shall go ; but you 
must give us a specimen of your skill ; we must see you 
shoot.' — ' I never shoot any rifle but my own, and that is at 
home.' — ' No matter, here is old Bess, she never fails in the 
hands of a marksman ; she has often sent death through a 
squirrel's head at one hundred yards, and daylight through 
many a redskin twice that distance ; if you can shoot any 
gun you can shoot old Bess.' ' Well, put up your mark, 
put up your mark,' replied Mr. Clay. The target was placed 
at a distance of about eighty yards, when, with all the 
steadiness of an old, experienced marksman, he drew old 
Bess to his shoulder and fired. The bullet pierced the 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 427 



target near the centre. ' Oh, a chance shot ! a chance shot ! ' 
exclaimed several of his political opponents. ' A chance 
shot ! He might shoot all day and not hit the mark again ; 
let him try it over, let him try it over.' ' No, beat that, beat 
that, and then I will/ retorted Mr. Clay. But as no one 
seemed disposed to make the attempt, it was considered 
that he had given satisfactory proof of being the best shot 
in the county ; and this unimportant incident gained him 
the vote, which was composed principally of that class of 
persons, as well as the support of the same throughout the 
county." 

Another instance similar to the above has been related of 
Mr. Clay. While a candidate he met an old hunter who 
had previously been one of his warm supporters, but who 
now opposed him on account of his action on the Com- 
pensation Bill. ' " Have you a good rifle, my friend ? " 
asked Mr. Clay.— " Yes."— " Does it ever flash ?"— « Once 
only." — " What did you do with it, throw it away ? " — " No, 
I picked the flint, tried again, and brought down the game." — 
" Have I ever flashed but on the Compensation Bill ? " — " No." 
— " Will you throw me away ? " " No ! no!" quickly replied 
the hunter, nearly overwhelmed by his enthusiastic feelings ; 
" / will pick the flint and try you again ! " Ever after he 
was the unwavering supporter and friend of Mr. Clay. 

While Mr. Clay was dining at Lord Castlereagh's in Lon- 
don, with several other distinguished Americans, the British 
Commissioners, and some of the British ministers, directly 
after the battle of Waterloo, and while the country was filled 
with rejoicings for the victory, it was suggested at table 
that, as it was not known where Napoleon was, he might 
possibly flee to America for an asylum. " Will he not give 
you some trouble if he goes there ? " said Lord Liverpool 
to Mr. Clay. " Not the least, my lord," said Mr. Clay. " We 
shall be very glad to see him, will entertain him with all due 
rites of hospitality, and soon make him a good democrat." 

Mr. Clay's opponents often ascertained, to their cost, that 
he could be witty, sarcastic, ironical, and satirical, but he 
usually resorted to these weapons for purposes of defending 



428 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



himself against unjust attacks, and was not often, himself, 
the aggressor. 

Soon after his entrance into the United States Senate he 
made his first speech on internal improvements. His speech 
did not suit an elderly member who had more presumption 
than sagacity. As he was much Mr. Clay's senior, he at- 
tempted to prove him guilty of being a young man, and, with 
ludicrously affected airs of superior wisdom, attacked him 
with that intent, advising him to modesty corresponding 
with his years. Mr. Clay, in his reply, quoted the follow- 
ing lines : 

" Thus have I seen a magpie in the street, 
A chattering bird we often meet, 
With head awry and cunning eye, 
Peep knowingly into a marrow-bone." 

It is said that the application of the manners of the magpie 
to those of the reverend Senator was so just that it was im- 
mediately perceived by the Senate, and excited much and 
hearty laughter. The supercilious critic after this encounter 
gave Mr. Clay no further trouble. 

A public dinner was given to Mr. Clay after his return 
from Ghent, by his friends at Lexington, when " the nego- 
tiators of Ghent " were toasted, in whose behalf Mr. Clay 
made a pertinent speech. But when the last toast was 
read — "Our guest, Henry Clay: we welcome his return 
to that country whose rights and interests he has so ably 
maintained, at home and abroad," — his feelings were deeply 
affected, and he made the following brief but witty reply 
with great difficulty : 

" My friends, I must again thank you for your kind and 
affectionate attention. My reception has been more like 
that of a brother than a common friend or acquaintance, 
and I am utterly incapable of finding words to express 
my gratitude. My situation is like that of a Swedish gen- 
tleman at a dinner given in England by the Society of 
Friends of Foreigners in Distress. A toast having been 
given, complimentary to his country, it was expected, as 



OR A TOR V IN AMERICA. 429 



is usual on such occasions, that he would rise and address 
the company. The gentleman, not understanding the Eng- 
lish language, rose under great embarrassment, and said : 
' Sir, I wish you to consider me a foreigner in distress.' I 
wish you, gentlemen, to consider me a friend in distress." 

A certain member of Congress noted for his long, dry 
speeches, on one occasion, in Committee of the Whole, hav- 
ing bored the members more than usual, said to Mr. Clay, 
who sat near him, in a low voice, while pausing for a fresh 
start : " You speak for the present generation, I speak for 
posterity." " Yes," replied Mr. Clay, " and you seem re- 
solved to continue speaking till your audience arrives." 

It is well known that Mr. Clay was accused by General 
Jackson and his friends of unnecessarily defending himself 
against the charge of bargain in the election of Mr. Adams, 
and that he attempted to create a sympathy for himself by 
his repeated appeals to the public. Of course the accusation 
was not well founded, for it was unreasonable that he should 
have started a subject of that character under the circum- 
stances. Mr. Clay, in a speech at Cincinnati, in 1828, said : 
" My traducers have attributed to me great facility in making 
a bargain. Whether I possess it, or not, there is one bar- 
gain which, for their accommodation, I am willing to enter 
into with them. If they will prevail upon their chief to ac- 
knowledge that he has been in error, and has done me injus- 
tice, and if they will cease to traduce and abuse me, I will 
no longer present myself before public assemblies, or in 
public prints, in my own defence. That is a bargain, how- 
ever, which I have no expectation of being able to conclude ; 
for men who are in a long-established line of business will 
not voluntarily quit their accustomed trade and acknowledge 
themselves bankrupts to honour, decency, and truth." 

In support of a pension bill before the House of Repre- 
sentatives, Mr. Lincoln, of Maine, broke out into a rhapso- 
dical apostrophe — indicative certainly of good feeling— and 
said : " Soldiers of the Revolution ! live for ever ! " Mr. 
Clay, not less zealous in so good a cause, could not, how- 
ever, resist the temptation to say : " I hope my worthy 



430 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



friend will consent to a compromise of ' forever ' to nine 
hundred and ninety-nine years." 

Replying to Mr. Calhoun's notions of free trade, March 
22, 1832, in the Senate, Mr. Clay said : " Yet still he [Mr. Cal- 
houn] clings to his free-trade doctrine, though it has proved 
so ruinous to his own State, and to Southern interests, as 
well as to Northern ; to that free trade which has depressed 
the price of cotton to a point below what it has ever brought 
since the close of the last war. In spite of all the teachings 
of experience, as well in his own, as in all other nations, still 
he deafens us with the cry of i free trade ! ' Really the case 
of the honourable gentleman is without any parallel that I 
know or ever heard of, unless it be that which we find in the 
immortal work of Le Sage. Gil Bias was engaged in medi- 
cal practice with the far-famed Dr. Sangrado, and after 
having gone as far as his conscience and his feelings could 
at all endure, he came at last to the Doctor and said to him : 
' Sir, your system won't do. I have been bleeding and ad- 
ministering warm water with unflinching resolution, and the 
consequence is — and I must tell you frankly^-all our'patients 
— nobles, gentlemen, bourgeois, men, women, and children — 
all, all are dying ! I propose to change the system.' ' What ! ' 
said the astonished Sangrado, * change our system ? change 
our system ? Why, sir, do you not know that I have writ- 
ten a BOOK, and that I must preserve my CONSISTENCY? 
Yes ; and sooner than change my system, or write another 
book to prove it false, let nobles, gentlemen, bourgeois, men, 

women, and children, and all, go to I will not say 

where.' The honourable Senator seems to act on the self- 
same plan. Instead of recommending hot water and bleed- 
ing, he recommends free trade ; and though he sees, from 
year to year, that his prescriptions are killing all his patients, 
he spurns the idea of changing his system, because he must 
preserve his CONSISTENCY ! " 

Mr. Clay died on the 29th of June, 1852. Tributes of re- 
spect from all classes of men were offered to his memory. 
Henry Clay was, by universal acknowledgment, not only one 
of the greatest men in this country, but of the age in which 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 43 1 



he lived, and, happily, his moral were not inferior to his 
mental endowments. 

It is usual to find persons who are highly distinguished 
in particular walks — in the forum, the senate, and the 
cabinet, but a character pre-eminent in them all constitutes 
a prodigy of human greatness. Yet such a character was 
Mr. Clay. The versatility of his powers was as remarkable 
as their strength. As a statesman his resources were inex- 
haustible, and his powers transcendent. His ability and 
eloquence at the bar were at once the delight and astonish- 
ment of his countrymen. 

Attainments so extensive, multifarious, and lofty, with 
endowments so brilliant, have but rarely fallen to the portion 
of man. 

Mr. Clay was singularly free from the irregularities and 
vices which sometimes follow in the train of greatness. The 
welfare of his country was the idol of his affections. He 
was orderly, temperate, and methodical. Before acting, he 
bestowed on his subject all the attention that would have 
been given it by a man of ordinary ability. He studied it 
with patience till he thoroughly understood it. The reader 
will come to the conclusion from this description of him, 
that his greatness was achieved, and not "thrust upon him." 
Such was Clay, the profound statesman, the eloquent orator, 
and the man of probity, tried and spotless. Mr. Clay was 
six feet and one inch high, and rather slender ; his arms 
were long, but his hands small. In standing, talking, or 
walking, he was always remarkably erect. His head was 
exceedingly well-shaped. His mouth was very large. His 
eyes were expressive, and were blue in colour. His nose 
was prominent, and his visage spare. His forehead was 
high and sloped backward. His hair, before it was frosted 
by age, was light. His person was well-formed and com- 
manding. 

Mr. Clay's manners were charming. He was remarkably 
self-possessed, and always at ease in society. He was noted 
for his affability, his dignity, general courtesy, and quick 
discernment of character. He captivated the plainest peo- 



432 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



pie, as well as the most cultivated. He had the power of 
accommodating his manners to the dispositions and charac- 
ters of all persons with whom he came in contact. 

The voice of Mr. Clay was one of great compass, power, 
and melody. In the modulation of his voice, for oratorical 
purposes, Mr. Clay was instructed by nature, rather than 
art. His voice was naturally sweet and clear, and it is said 
that spectators in the galleries of the Senate-chamber have 
often heard his voice in private conversation at his desk be- 
low, while another Senator was making a speech. This suf- 
ficiently illustrates the penetrating character of its most 
common colloquial notes. 

The following sketch of Mr. Clay was drawn some years 
before his death : 

" There is a tall, light-haired, blue-eyed individual, sixty 
years old or more, who occupies a seat in the Senate at the 
Capitol. He has not what would be called a handsome face, 
but one of the liveliest, or, if we may so speak, one of the 
most looking faces that ever fronted a head. It is because 
he has a looking organisation. You catch not him asleep 
or moping. He seems to see everybody that comes in, or 
goes out, and besides, to have an eye on, and an ear for, 
whatever honourable Senator may occupy the field of de- 
bate. If his own marked political game is on foot, he is 
then Nimrody a mighty hunter. He can see just what fis- 
sure of inconsistency, nook of sophism, or covert of rhetoric 
is made a hiding-place. At the right moment, he aims a 
rifle pretty sure to hit, if his powder is good ; and his friends 
say that he uses the best. Grand fun it is to stand by and 
see this keen sportsman crack off, and especially to hear 
him wind 'the mellow, mellow horn,' which his mother gave 
him a long while ago. To leave our hunting-ground meta- 
phor for the plain beaten way, this individual is the veteran 
statesman from Kentucky. Now, just come and look at his 
head, or seek his portrait, at least. You will see how his 
Perceptives put themselves forth in front, just as if they 
were reaching after their objects, as it were, for a long pull 
and a strong pull, to fetch them into keeping. Then, in 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 433 



speech, with what ease, grace, order, and effect, he can fling 
forth his gatherings. His mind has been developed by the 
exciting circumstances of active life, rather than by the 
speculations of ' quiet books.' Henry Clay is therefore a 
practical man. He is pre-eminently perceptive. He knows 
the whom, the what, the where, the when, the which first, 
and the how many, as well perhaps as any public man liv- 
ing. A very long political life has put him to the test. We 
do not aver that he never made mistakes, or that he is po- 
litically and positively right ; we intimate, moreover, nothing 
to the contrary. We would simply convey that, of all the 
great statesmen of our country, he particularly illustrates the 
faculties just had under review ! " 

The following remarks of Mr. Underwood, his colleague, 
delivered in the Senate of the United States, are worthy of 
insertion here : 

" The character of Henry Clay was formed and developed 
by the influence of our free institutions. His physical and 
mental organisation eminently qualified him to become a 
great and impressive orator. His person was tall, slender, 
and commanding. His temperament ardent, fearless, and 
full of hope. His countenance clear, expressive, and varia- 
ble — indicating the emotion which predominated at the 
moment with exact similitude. His voice, cultivated and 
modulated in harmony with the sentiment he desired to 
express, fell upon the ear like the melody of enrapturing 
music. His eye beaming with intelligence, and flashing with 
coruscations of genius. His gestures and attitudes graceful 
and natural. These personal advantages won the prepos- 
sessions of an audience, even before his intellectual powers 
began to move his hearers ; and when his strong common- 
sense, his profound reasoning, his clear conception of his 
subject in all its bearings, and his striking and beautiful 
illustrations, united with such personal qualities, were 
brought to the discussion of any question, his audience was 
enraptured, convinced, and led by the orator as if enchanted 
by the lyre of Orpheus. 

" No man was ever blessed bv his Creator with faculties of 



434 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



a higher order of excellence than those given to Mr. Clay. In 
the quickness of his perceptions, and the rapidity with which 
his conclusions were formed, he had few equals, and no supe- 
rior. He detected in a moment everything out of place or 
deficient in his room, upon his farm, in his own, or the dress 
of others. He was a skilful judge of the forward qualities 
of his domestic animals, which he delighted to raise on his 
farm. I could give you instances of the quickness and the 
minuteness of his keen faculty of observation, which never 
overlooked anything. A want of neatness and order was 
offensive to him. He was particular and neat in his hand- 
writing, and his apparel. A slovenly blot, or negligence of 
any sort, met his condemnation ; while he was so organised 
that he attended to and arranged little things to please and 
gratify his natural love for neatness, order, and beauty, his 
great intellectual faculties grasped all the subjects of juris- 
prudence and politics with a facility amounting almost to in- 
tuition. As a lawyer he stood at the head of his profession. 
As a statesman, his stand at the head of the Republican 
Whig Party for nearly half a century establishes his title to 
pre-eminence among his illustrious associates. 

" Mr. Clay throughout his public career, was influenced by 
the loftiest patriotism. Confident in the truth of his convic- 
tions and the purity of his purposes, he was ardent, some- 
times impetuous, in the pursuit of objects which he 
believed essential to the public welfare. His sympathies 
embraced all. The African slave, the Creole of Spanish 
America, the children of renovated classic Greece — all fami- 
lies of men, without respect to colour or clime, found in his 
expanded bosom and comprehensive intellect a friend of 
their elevation and amelioration. 

" Bold and determined as Mr. Clay was in all his actions, 
he was, nevertheless, conciliating. He did not obstinately 
adhere to things impracticable. If he could not accomplish the 
best, he contented himself with the nighest approach to it. 
He has been the great compromiser of those political agita- 
tions and opposing opinions which have, in the belief of thou- 
sands, at different times, endangered the perpetuity of our 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 435 



Federal Government and Union. He was no less remarkable 
for his admirable social qualities than for his intellectual 
abilities. As a companion he was the delight of his friends, 
and no man ever had better or truer. They have loved him 
from the beginning and loved him to the last. His hospit- 
able mansion at Ashland was always open to their reception. 
No guest ever thence departed without feeling happier for 
his visit." 

The following remarks by Mr. Colton, upon the attributes 
of Mr. Clay's oratory cannot fail to interest, deeply, a student 
of eloquence : " But the attributes of Mr. Clay's eloquence 
extend to a wider range than that of voice. His person, tall, 
erect, commanding ; his countenance, as well as his voice, 
capable of expressing every feeling and passion of the human 
soul, pleasure or pain, satisfaction or discontent, hope or fear, 
desire or aversion, complacency or contempt, love or hatred, 
joy or grief, ecstacy or anguish, valour or cowardice, kindness 
or cruelty, pity or revenge, resolution or despair ; his large 
mouth, and swollen upper lip, working quietly, or in agony, 
as occasions require ; his eye resting in calmness, or beaming 
with lively emotion, or sparkling with strong feeling, or flash- 
ing with high passion like the thunderbolts of heaven in the 
darkness of the storm ; his arms, now hanging easy by his 
side, now outstretched, now uplifted, now waving with grace, 
or striking with the vehemence of passion ; his finger pointing 
where his piercing thoughts direct ; the easy, or quiet, or vio- 
lent movements of his whole frame ; the bending of his body 
forward, or sidewise, or backward ; the downward or upward 
look ; the composed or suffused or impassioned countenance ; 
the watchful, shifting glances, taking in the field of vision, 
and making each one feel that he is seen and individually 
addressed ; the theme ; himself ; his audiences ; his fame ; 
his position on the subject in debate or under discussion ; 
his relation to the assembly or the body before him ; the re- 
spect and esteem in which he is held by them ; his dignity, 
courtesy, deference ; his disinterestedness, his philanthropy, 
his patriotism ; — all these, and many others that might be 
named, are among the attributes of Mr. Clay's eloquence, 



436 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 

and appertain to that accumulation and concentration of in- 
fluences which have given his popular harangues, his forensic 
efforts, his various public addresses, and his parliamentary 
speeches so much power over the minds, the hearts, and 
the actions of his countrymen. 

" Purity of diction cannot be separated from the attributes 
of Mr. Clay's eloquence. It is not less true that language, 
properly selected and composed, is eloquent, than that sen- 
timent and passion are ; and the eloquence of passion de- 
pends on that of diction. Passion may even be spoiled by 
its dress, and lose all its force. Purity of diction is to 
thought, sentiment, and passion, as the well-made toilet of a 
lady is to her charms. It is a transparent medium, through 
which the observer looks into the soul, and beholds all its 
movements. When the diction is pure, all occasions of criti- 
cism, as to dress are absent, and what is in the mind and 
heart of the speaker passes directly into the mind and heart 
of the listener. The effect of pure diction is the same on 
the clown as on the scholar. The former cannot criticise, if 
he would ; the latter rejects his prerogative ; and both are 
lost in satisfaction, if both are interested in the subject, and 
otherwise equally attracted. But if the language were not 
pure, both would not feel it, though possibly but one could 
point out the defect or blemish. Nature, in the rudest state, 
however, is often endowed with the highest attributes of 
criticism. A much admired painting of a peasant girl feed- 
ing the pigs had sustained the severest scrutiny of connois- 
seurs, with triumph; but, when a negro slave, used to that 
business, looked at the picture, and exclaimed, ' Who ever 
saw pigs feeding, without one foot in the trough ? ' — the 
painting was thenceforth good for nothing ! The best test 
of Mr. Clay's language, both in colloquial and rhetorical ap- 
plications, is, that it is suited to all classes of persons. 

" Faith in the validity and sincerity of Mr. Clay's own con- 
victions, arising not less from faith in his general character, 
than from the artless and feeling manner of his utterance, 
carries with it an irresistible influence. All who hear him 
are fully persuaded, from what they know of him, and by 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 437 



his manner, thai he himself believes what he says. Their sur- 
render of opinion and feeling, therefore, or their acquies- 
cence, is measured only by their will, or their interest, or 
their confidence in his judgment, or by a combination of 
such influences. No small part of the eloquence of Mr. Clay 
lies in this faith, which is a moral band between him and 
those whom he addresses, dissolving in a common crucible 
the feelings of the two parties." 

Choate. — Rufus Choate, one of the greatest orators and 
statesmen this country has produced, was born in Essex 
County, Massachusetts, on the 1st of October, 1799. 

He was noted while at school for his close application to 
study and for his extraordinary powers of memory. He 
graduated at Dartmouth College in 18 19. He began the 
study of law at Cambridge, and afterward entered the office 
of the celebrated William Wirt, at Washington, D. C. He 
was elected to the Senate of his native state in 1830. 
He was chosen as a representative in Congress in 1832. He 
was elected a United States Senator from Massachusetts in 
1842, and resigned in 1845, an d was succeeded by Daniel 
Webster. 

Mr. Choate was one of the most gifted forensic orators 
that ever lived. He began his legal career at Danvers and 
Salem, Massachusetts. 

His intellect, naturally powerful, he developed by exact 
and laborious study. His powers of discrimination and 
abstraction were marvellous. He was endowed by nature 
with a sparkling wit, a lively fancy, and an enthusiasm 
which was overwhelming. While speaking, Mr. Choate 
narrowly and keenly watched the faces of his auditors, and 
if he noted the slightest look of dissatisfaction, he changed 
his course, and, with the great tact for which he was dis- 
tinguished, he would modify, or change the obnoxious 
statement until he would meet the approbation of his most 
stubborn listeners. His voice was indescribably sweet and 
musical, and no orator was ever listened to with greater 
delight. 

One of his biographers says of him : " I have no words to 



43§ HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



describe the effort of this remarkable man. The fluency, 
rapidity, and beauty of his language, his earnest manner, his 
excited action, and his whole being, conflicting with the most 
intense emotion ; he was all nerve ; each sense, each faculty 
was absorbed in the great duty of the day ; and sometimes 
it seemed that tears alone could relieve the uncontrollable 
agitation which thrilled through his frame, and quivered on 
his lips, and trembled in his voice; the strong nerve of a 
man alone enabled him to command his struggling feelings. 
His memory supplied quotations, learned and to the point ; 
his imagination called each poetic fancy quick to his aid ; 
and his voice of music attuned itself to all the varied tones 
of his discourse, awakening in every breast the sentiments 
and impressions of his own. He is the Proteus of elo- 
quence." 

Much time is wasted by studying subjects which are 
interesting, but practically useless. Mr. Choate was ever on 
his guard against subjects of this character, and it is said 
that early in life he refused to follow a friend into the laby- 
rinths of German mysticism, or to study the doctrines of 
Swedenborg. Mr. Choate was earnestly desirous of mas- 
tering the law as a science, and of understanding the art of 
oratory. 

One of the perils which attend men of great ability is the 
danger of their becoming victims of a delusive self-confi- 
dence. They are sometimes led by the whispers of vanity 
to depend upon their natural talents, and to neglect those 
studies, which they must pursue if they ever attain emi- 
nence. Mr. Choate, however, properly regarded genius as 
the mere capacity to acquire knowledge and to use it, con- 
sequently he was untiring in his efforts to cultivate his 
mental faculties to the fullest extent to which they were sus- 
ceptible of being cultivated. When a young man he often 
read law until two o'clock in the morning. 

Later in life, however, Mr. Choate became less exclusive 
in his legal studies, and sought a broader and more generous 
culture than the law could give. 

In his preparation of cases Mr. Choate was extremely in- 



ORATORY IN AMERICA. 439 



dustrious. Although one of the most profound lawyers 
that ever lived, Mr. Choate did not neglect the study of the 
law governing each case which was entrusted to his manage- 
ment. Often the labour of preparation was comparatively 
light because of his familiarity with the general principles 
of the law. Chief Justice Parsons, himself an eminent 
jurist, said, in speaking of Mr. Choate's legal knowledge : 
" I have, indeed, no hesitation in saying that he was one of 
the most learned lawyers I have ever met with. And his 
learning was excellent in its kind and quality." 

Mr. Choate's method of examining witnesses was un- 
doubtedly the most successful which he could have adopted. 
He rarely, either in his examinations in chief, or in his cross- 
examinations, spoke harshly to a witness, but when severity 
was necessary no one could be more severe. 

Mr. Choate once said to a friend, " Never browbeat a 
witness on the cross-examination ; it only makes him 
more obstinate and hostile. When I began to practise law, 
I used to think it very fine to be severe, and even savage, 
towards my opponent's witnesses ; but I soon found it would 
not do, and I reformed my method altogether. Violence 
does no good : the gentle method is the best. It is the old 
story of the sun and the wind." 

The notes taken by Mr. Choate in court were always ample 
and complete. To a student who was going to take the 
depositions of some witnesses he said : " Take down every 
adjective, adverb, and interjection the witnesses utter." 

Although his briefs were sometimes lengthy, he did not 
always confine himself to them while addressing juries. 
In the argument of questions of law to the court, he followed 
his notes closely, as a general rule. 

Professor Brown says : " In determining the theory of his 
case, he was never satisfied until he had met every supposi- 
tion that could be brought against it. But he had no love 
for a theory because it was his own, however great the labour 
it had cost him, but was perfectly ready to throw it aside 
for another, when that appeared better. This change of 
front he sometimes made in the midst of the trial, under the 



440 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



eye of the court, and in the face of a watchful and eager 
antagonist. He was never more self-possessed, nor* seemed 
to have his entire faculties more fully at command, nor to 
exercise a more consummate judgment, than when in the 
very heat of a strongly contested case, where a mistake 
would have been fatal. In the preparation of a case, he left 
nothing to chance; and his juniors sometimes found them- 
selves urged to a fidelity and constancy of labour to which 
they had not been accustomed." 

In 1853 a vigorous effort was made in the Massachusetts 
Convention to change the tenure of the judicial office to a 
term of years, from a tenure of good behaviour. Mr. Choate 
was opposed to this change, and the speech which he made 
on that occasion was exceedingly eloquent and able. In 
the course of his speech he drew an admirable portrait of 
a good judge : " In the first place, he should be profoundly 
learned in all the learning of the law, and he must know 
how to use that learning. Will any one stand up here 
to deny this ? . . . Will any one disgrace himself by 
doubting the necessity of deep and continued studies, and 
various and thorough attainments to the bench ? He is to 
know not merely the law which you make, and the Legisla- 
ture makes, not constitutional and statute law alone, but that 
other ampler, that boundless jurisprudence, the common law, 
which the successive generations of the State have silently 
built up ; that old code of freedom which we brought with us 
in the Mayflower and Arabella, but which, in the progress of 
centuries, we have ameliorated and enriched, and adapted 
wisely to the necessities of a busy, prosperous, and wealthy 
community — that he must know. 

" And where to find it ? In volumes which you must 
count by hundreds, by thousands ; filling libraries ; exacting 
long labours — the labours of a lifetime, abstracted from busi- 
ness, from politics, but assisted by taking part in an active 
judicial administration ; such labours as produced the wisdom 
and won the fame of Parsons, and Marshall, and Kent, and 
Story, and Holt, and Mansfield. If your system of 
appointment and tenure does not present a motive, a help 



OR A TOR Y IN A M ERICA . 44 1 



for such labours and such learning, if it discourages, if it 
disparages them, in so far it is a failure. 

" In the next place, he must be a man not merely upright ; 
not merely honest and well intentioned — this of course, — 
but a man who will not respect persons in judgment. And 
does not every one here agree to this also ? Dismissing for 
a moment all theories about the mode of appointing him, 
or the time for which he shall hold office, sure I am that, as 
far as human virtue, assisted by the best contrivance of 
human wisdom, can attain to it, he shall not respect persons 
in judgment. He shall know nothing about the parties, 
everything about the case. He shall do everything for 
justice, nothing for himself, nothing for his friend, nothing 
for his patrons, nothing for his sovereign. 

" If, on one side, is the Executive power and the Legisla- 
ture and the people — the sources of his honours, the givers 
of his daily bread — and on the other, an individual, nameless 
and odious, his eye is to see neither great nor small, attend- 
ing only to the trepidations of the balance. If a law is 
passed by a unanimous Legislature, clamoured for by the 
general voice of the public, and a cause is before him on it, 
in which the whole community is on one side and an indi- 
vidual nameless or odious on the other, and he believes it to 
be against the Constitution, he must so declare it, or there 
is no judge. If Athens came there to demand that the cup 
of hemlock be put to the lips of the wisest of men, and he 
believes that he has not corrupted the youth, nor omitted to wor- 
ship the gods of the city, nor introduced new divinities of his 
own, he must deliver him, although the thunder light on 
the unterrified brow. ' 

" And, finally, he must possess the perfect confidence of 
the community, that he bear not the sword in vain. To be 
honest, to be no respecter of persons, is not yet enough. 
He must be believed such. I should be glad so far to indulge 
an old-fashioned and cherished professional sentiment as to 
say that I would have something venerable and illustrious 
attach to his character and function, in the judgment and 
feelings of the Commonwealth! 



442 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



" But if this should be thought a little above or behind 
the time, I do not fear that I subject myself to the ridicule 
of any one when I claim that he be a man toward whom 
the love and trust and affectionate admiration of the people 
should flow, not a man perching for a winter and summer in 
our court-houses and then gone forever ; but one to whose 
benevolent face, and bland and dignified manners, and firm 
administration of the whole learning of the law, we become 
accustomed ; whom our eyes anxiously, not in vain, explore 
when we enter the temple of justice ; toward whom our 
attachment and trust grow ever with the growth of his own 
reputation. I would have him one who might look back 
from the venerable last years of Mansfield or Marshall and 
recall such testimonies as these to the great and good judge : 

" ' The young men saw me and hid themselves, and the 
aged arose and stood up. 

" ' The princes refrained from talking, and laid their hand 
upon their mouth. 

" ' When the ear heard me then it blessed me, and when the 
eye saw me it gave witness to me. 

" ' Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the father- 
less, and him that had none to help him. 

" ' The blessing of him that was ready to perish came 
upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. 

"' I put on righteousness and it clothed me. My judg- 
ment was as a robe and a diadem. I was eyes to the blind, 
and feet was I to the lame. 

" ' I was a father to the poor, and the cause which I knew 
not I searched out. 

" ' And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and I plucked the 
spoil out of his teeth.' 

"Give to the community such a judge, and I care little 
who makes the rest of the Constitution, or what party ad- 
ministers it. It will be a free government I know. Let us 
repose secure under the shade of a learned, impartial, and 
trusted magistracy, and we need no more." 

A cashier of one of the South Boston banks, was tried 
for embezzlement. Mr. Choate appeared for the defence. 



OR A TOR Y IN A ME RICA . 443 



He contended that the cashier was compelled to do 
what he had done by his superior officers, the directors ; 
that they had swindled the public ; that they were the re- 
sponsible parties, and should suffer the punishment. He 
was proceeding to flay the directors, when one of them 
rose in court, and in great anger began to denounce Choate 
who, hardly allowing himself to be interrupted, said mildly : 
" I beg the director to be seated, as he wishes to be treated 
with moderation, in a court of justice." And then instantly 
breaking out into a scream, and with the greatest impetu- 
osity, he exclaimed : " I tell you, gentlemen of the jury, my 
client was as helpless in the hands of these directors as an 
infant surrounded by ten thousand Bengal tigers ! " 

The author who relates this incident says, in commenting 
upon it : " No one, however, smiled ; every one looked grave, 
and full of sympathy for the unfortunate infant thus en- 
circled, and ready to bewail the inevitable catastrophe." 

A story is told of Mr. Choate, for the truth of which, how- 
ever, the writer will not vouch. A stranger called to see 
him, and said that he had called to consult him about a 
very important matter. His cause of grievance was that at 
a hotel he had had a dispute with one of the waiters, who 
finally told him to go to h — 1. " Now," he continued, 
with an air of great importance, " I ask you, Mr. Choate, as 
one learned in the law, and as my legal adviser, what course, 
under these very aggravating circumstances, is it best for me, 
in your judgment, to pursue ? " Mr. Choate requested him 
to state again, in order of time, everything that occurred, 
and to be careful not to omit anything, and, when this had 
been done, remained for a few moments as if lost in deep 
thought. At last, with the utmost gravity, he spoke : " I 
have been running over in my mind all the statutes of the 
United States, all the statutes of the Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts, and all the decisions of all the judges 
thereon, and I am satisfied there is nothing in them that 
will require you to go to the place you have mentioned ; 
and don t you go" Mr. Choate's client doubtless followed 
this sound advice. 



444 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



Mr. Choate always spoke with great earnestness. The 
style of forensic oratory in his day was somewhat different 
from the style at present, although he would now be heard 
with just as much pleasure as he was in his own time, if 
he were alive. It is said that at times while speaking every 
portion of his frame quivered with emotion, his eyes flashed 
fire, his gestures were vehement and energetic, and his voice 
would rise to a scream." 

A writer, Mr. Parker, happily says, that Mr. Choate did not 
think that truth lies in still waters. " He appeared rather 
to be of opinion that it was a goblet of gold cast into a 
furious and foaming whirlpool, — as in Schiller's ballad, — into 
which he who would rescue it must plunge, and contend for 
it with the raging waters ; and so, like the daring youth in 
the story, he would leap into the boiling, hissing, frightful 
vortex, pluck from its dark womb the golden prize, bear it 
with upraised hand through surging billows and assailing 
enemies back to the welcome shore, and place it in the 
hands of the virgin goddess, Justice, to give to its rightful 
owner." 

The writer is inclined to believe that some of the accounts 
of Mr. Choate's extravagance in the use of violent and de- 
clamatory gestures, as well as his screaming at the top of his 
voice, have been exaggerated. Mr. Choate, notwithstanding 
his genius, was a man of excellent j udgment and of exceedingly 
good taste. It is quite certain that the voice of ex-Governor 
William Allen, which is said to have been of " forty-bull 
power," greatly displeased him. It is said that he was once 
invited to address the people of the United States from the 
steps of the Capitol in Ohio. His voice almost stunned the 
Senators of the United States who heard him. He and Mr. 
Choate were members of that Senate at the same time, and on 
one occasion the latter remarked humorously to a friend 
that Allen repeatedly violated that clause of the Constitu- 
tion of the United States which forbade the infliction of 
" cruel and unusual punishments." 

Mr. Choate was unequalled in tact by any of his contem- 
poraries. No forensic orator was ever better acquainted 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA. 445 



with the means of investing the most common theme with 
interest, and no one could attract and hold the attention of 
the jury as long as he could. Speaking of the origin of an 
assault, he said : " It was a mere accidental push ; such a mere 
jostle, Mr. Foreman, as you might give another in coming 
out of a Union Meeting at Faneuil Hall " (he knew the fore- 
man was a Webster Whig) ; "or a Friday-evening prayer 
meeting" (looking at another and very religious juror); 
" or a Jenny Lind concert " (looking now at still another 
juror, who was a musical man). 

In the trial of a patent case the opposing counsel said to 
him : " There 's nothing original in your patent ; your client 
did not come at it naturally" Choate replied, with a half- 
mirthful, half-scornful look : " What does my brother mean 
by naturally ? Naturally ! We don't do anything naturally. 
Why, naturally a man would walk down Washington Street 
with his pantaloons off ! " 

He said of one of his female clients : " She is a sinner, — 
no, not a sinner, for she is our client ; but she is a very dis- 
agreeable saint." 

That Mr. Choate sometimes indulged in exaggeration the 
following passage in his speech before a committee of the 
Legislature of Massachusetts on a question of boundary 
between that State and Rhode Island shows. He said : 

" I would as soon think of bounding a sovereign state on 
the north by a dandelion, on the west by a blue-jay, on the 
south by a swarm of bees in swarming time, and on the east 
by three hundred foxes with fire-brands tied to their tails, as 
of relying upon the loose and indefinite bounds of commis- 
sioners a century ago." 

Mr. Choate was not quite six feet in height. His breast 
was full and deep ; legs rather slender ; head remarkably 
well shaped, and covered with a fine suit of black, curly hair; 
forehead high, broad, and almost perpendicular. His face 
was handsome ; mouth and nose large, lips thin and long, 
and eyes large, black, and lustrous. 

In manners he was always gentlemanly and courteous. 
He was always particularly respectful to the aged, and he 



446 HISTORY OF ORATORY. 



treated young people, invariably, with the greatest kind- 
ness. 

His vocabulary was practically unlimited. His voice was 
sonorous, musical, and capable of expressing every shade of 
feeling. 

Mr. Choate was fond of the study of the Bible — especially 
of the New Testament, and on one occasion Daniel Webster, 
while looking through his library, said : " Thirteen editions 
of the Greek Testament, and not one copy of the Constitu- 
tion of your country." He translated many of the Greek 
and Latin classics into English. He was extremely fond of 
books, and an extract from his remarks on the consolations 
of literature may prove of interest to the reader: 

" I come to add the final reason why the working man — 
by whom I mean the whole brotherhood of industry — should 
set on mental culture and that knowledge which is wisdom, 
a value so high — only not supreme — subordinate alone to 
the exercises and hopes of religion itself ; and that is, that 
therein he shall so surely find rest from labour ; succour un- 
der its burdens ; forgetfulness of its cares ; composure in its 
annoyances. 

" It is not always that the busy day is followed by the 
peaceful night. It is not always that fatigue wins sleep. 
Often some vexation outside of the toil that has exhausted 
the frame : some loss in a bargain ; some loss by an in- 
solvency ; some unforeseen rise or fall in prices ; some triumph 
of a mean or fraudulent competitor ; ' the law's delay, the 
proud man's contumely, the insolence of office, or some of the 
spurns that patient merit from the unworthy takes ' — some 
self-reproach, perhaps, follow you within the door ; chill the 
fireside ; sow the pillow with thorns ; and the dark care is 
lost in the last waking thought, and haunts the vivid 
dream. 

" Happy, then, is he who has laid up in youth, and has held 
fast in all fortune, a genuine and passionate love of reading. 
True balm of hurt minds ; of surer and more healthful 
charm than ' poppy or mandragora, or all the drowsy syrups 
of the world ' — by that single taste, by that single capacity, 



OR A TOR Y IN AMERICA . 447 



he may bound, in a moment, into the still regions of de- 
lightful studies, and be at rest. 

" He recalls the annoyance that pursues him ; reflects that 
he has done all that might become a man to avoid or bear 
it ; he indulges in one good long, human sigh, picks up a 
volume where the mark kept his place, and in about the 
same time that it takes the Mohammedan, in the Spectator, 
to put his head in the bucket of water and raise it out, he 
finds himself exploring the arrow-marked ruins of Nineveh 
with Layard ; or worshipping at the spring-head of the stu- 
pendous Missouri with Clarke and Lewis ; or watching with 
Columbus for the sublime moment of the rising of the cur- 
tain from before the great mystery of the sea ; or looking 
reverentially on while Socrates — the discourse on immortal- 
ity ended — refuses the offer of escape, and takes in his hand 
the poison, to die in obedience to the unrighteous sentence 
of the law ; or, perhaps, it is in the contemplation of some 
vast spectacle or phenomenon of Nature that he has found 
his quick peace — the renewed exploration of one of her 
great laws — or some glimpse opened by the pencil of St. 
Pierre, or Humboldt, or Chateaubriand, or Wilson, of the 
' blessedness and glory of her own deep, calm, and mighty 
existence.' 

" Let the case of a busy lawyer testify to the priceless value 
of the love of reading. He comes home, his temples throb- 
bing, his nerves shattered, from a trial of a week ; surprised 
and alarmed by the charge of the judge, and pale with 
anxiety about the verdict of the next morning, not at all 
satisfied with what he has done himself, though he does not 
yet see how he could have improved it; recalling with dread 
and self-disparagement, if not with envy, the brilliant effort 
of his antagonist, and tormenting himself with the vain 
wish that he could have replied to it — and altogether a very 
miserable subject, and in as unfavourable condition to accept 
comfort from wife and children as poor Christian in the first 
three pages of the Pilgrim s Progress. 

" With a superhuman effort he opens his book, and in a 
twinkling of an eye he is looking into the full ' orb of Ho- 



44 8 HIS TOR Y OF OR A TOR Y. 



meric or Miltonic song ? ; or he stands in the crowd breath- 
less, yet swayed as forests or the sea by winds, hearing 
and to judge the Pleadings for the Crown ; or the philosophy 
which soothed Cicero or Boethius in their afflictions, in exile, 
in prison, and the contemplation of death, breathes over his 
petty cares like the sweet south ; or Pope or Horace laugh 
him into good humour, or he walks with ^Eneas and the 
Sybil in the mild light of the world of the laurelled dead, 
and the court-house is as completely forgotten as the dream 
of a pre-Adamite life. Well may he prize that endeared 
charm, so effectual and safe, without which the brain had 
long ago been chilled by paralysis, or set on fire by insanity ! " 

Mr. Choate's originality was never questioned. He copied 
no one, in language or style of argumentation. He was 
always natural and unaffected, and was beyond question one 
of the most powerful advocates that ever addressed a jury. 
At the time of his death he was at the head of the American 
bar. He discharged his duty to the letter in every relation 
of life, public and private. No good man was his enemy, 
and for the respect of the vicious he was not solicitous. 

Mr. Choate was extremely courteous and kind to his 
juniors, and he was sincerely mourned by them at his death. 
His fidelity to the interests of clients knew no bounds. His 
life was a useful one, and so perfect a character should be 
looked upon as an example by the younger members of the 
legal profession worthy of their closest imitation. The more 
carefully they read the history of his life and his utterances 
in public the greater will be their reverence for him. 

He died at Halifax, on the 13th of July, 1859. 

THE END. 



INDEX. 



Adams, John. 

Description of Otis, 336 
Adams, John Quincy. 

Exhortation to eloquence, 72 

Comparison between ancient and 
modern oratory, 74 
iEschines, 15-18 

Suit against Ctesiphon, 15 
Afrania, 38 
Alison. 

Eloquence in the reign of George 
HI., 77 
Allen, William, 444 
Ames, Fisher, 338-343 

Upon Hamilton, 326 

On the Sanctity of Treaties, 340 
Anaxagoras, 3 
Antonius, Marcus, 31 
Antony, Mark, Cicero against, 65 
Ashurst, Justice, 248 
Augustine, 80. 



B 



Baillie, Captain, defence of, 199 
Baldwin. 

Randolph's opposition to war with 
England, 343 
Beecher, Henry Ward. 

Definition of oratory, 70 
Berryer. 

French advocate at his daily duties, 

302 

29 



Blair. 

Upon Modern Eloquence, 80 
Blessington, Lady. 

Description of Disraeli, 274 
Bolingbroke, Lord, 91-96 

Law as a science, 93 

The study of history, 94 

Letter to Windham, 96 
Boswell. 

Erskine and Johnson, 194 
Bright, John, 261-274 

Extract from speech against the 
Crimean War, 268 

Tribute from Gladstone, 271 
Brougham, Lord, 176-188 

Oration on the Crown, 17 

Lord Bolingbroke, 91 

The Administration of Lord Chat- 
ham, 100 

Eloquence of Chatham, 105 

Fox and Demosthenes, 123 

Canning, 175 

Extract from speech on Law Re- 
form, 182 

Extract from speech on Emanci- 
pation of Negro Apprentices, 
183 

Tribute to Washington, 183 

The fate of the Reformer, 185 

The conqueror and the schoolmaster, 
187 

Tribute to Erskine, 241 
Brown, David Paul. 

The advocate, 71 



449 



45o 



INDEX. 



Brown, Prof., conduct of case by 

Rufus Choate, 439 
Buller, Justice, 198, 205 
Burke, Edward, 126-136 

Comparison with Fox and Pitt, 116 
On American Affairs, 130 
Extracts from the trial of Warren 
Hastings, 132 



Caldwell, Dr. Charles. 

Oratory of Fisher Ames, 339 
Calhoun, John C, 406, 430 
Calidius, 39 
Calvus, 39 
Campbell, Lord. 

Erskine's choice <3f profession, 195 

Erskine's defence of Gordon, 203 

Quips of Home Tooke, 222 

Letter from Erskine, 230 

Estimate of Erskine, 235, 248 
Canning, George, 169-176 

Sketch of Pitt, 114 

Extract from speech on Bank-notes 
and Coin, 169 

Extract from speech on Tierney's 
Motion, 171 

Extract from speech on Men and 
Measures, 172 

Extract from speech on the Philoso- 
phy of Hatred, 173 

At Eton, 284 
'Cardus, 66 
■Cardwell, 277 
Carfania, 68 
>Carlyle, Thomas, Letter to Emerson 

on Webster, 389 
Carmenin on Mirabeau, 308 
Catiline, 60 
•Cato, 26 
'Cethegus, 26 
Chatham, Lord, 96-108 

Answer of Walpole, 97 

Reply to Walpole, 99 

^Extract from speech on American 
War, 101 

Tribute of Wirt, 106 



Choate, Joseph H., 73 
Choate, Rufus, 437-448 

Portrait of a judge, 440 

Advice to a client, 443 

Consolations of Literature, 446 
Christie, Auctioneer, 246 
Chrysostom, 81 
Cicero, 48-66 

Compared with Demosthenes, 20, 

53 
Importance of eloquence, 24 
Reference to Galba, 26 

" Lselius and Scipio 
Africanus, 27 
Reference to Antony, 32, 65 
" Crassus, 33 
" Calidius, 40 
Defence of Roscius, 50 
Orations against Verres, 54 
" " Catiline, 60 

Claudius, Appius, 25, 26 
Clay, Henry, 73, 424~437 
Campaigning, 426 
Lexington dinner, 428 
Reply to Calhoun, 430 
Coleridge, Sir James, 261 
Colton. 

Oratory of Clay, 435 
Comitia, the Roman, 43 
Corry, Chancellor, 142 
Corwin, Thomas, 367-372 

Reply to Crary, 368 
Cotta, 34 
Crassus, 31-33 

Speech against Philippus, 33 
Creasy, Sir Edward, on Bolingbroke, 

95 
Ctesiphon, 114 
Curran, John Philpot, 150-156 

Extracts from Defence of Rowan, 

152 
Sketch of O'Connell, 162 

D 

Dean of St. Asaph, defence of, 205 
Demosthenes, 9-22 

Extract from First Philippic, 10 






INDEX. 



451 



Demosthenes — Continued. 

Extract from Third Philippic, 10 

" Oration on the Crown, 
12, 17 

Compared with Cicero, 20, 53 
" " Fox, 123 

Dionysius, 25 

Disraeli, Benjamin, 263, 268, 274- 
282, 289 
First speech in Parliament, 275 
Oratory of, 277 

Allusion to the Abyssinian War, 278 
Reply to criticisms by Gladstone, 

279 
Counsel to youth, 280 
On the Power of Knowledge, 280 
Dumont. 

Mirabeau as an orator, 312 



Emerson, G. R. 

Gladstone at Eton and Oxford, 283 
Emmet, Thomas Addis, 156 
Erskine, Lord, 188-252 
Letters, 189, 191 
Defence of Captain Baillie, 199 
" " Admiral Keppel, 202 

" " Lord George Gordon, 

203 
Defence of Dean of St. Asaph, 205 
" Stockdale, 207 
" " Hardy, 213 

" " Tooke, 221 

" Thelwall, 227 
Prosecution of Williams, 228 
Defence of Hadfield, 231 
Espinasse, sketch of Erskine, 243, 

245 
Everett, Edward, 357-367 

Extract from Advantages of Adver- 
sity to the Pilgrim Fathers, 358 
Extract from address on the Uses 

of Astronomy, 361 
Extract from address on England, 

362 
Extract from address on Know- 
ledge, 365 



Flood, controversy with Grattan, 140 
Forum, the Roman, 42 
Fox, Charles James, 112, 113, 118- 
126 
Comparison with Burke and Pitt, 

116 
Extract from speech on the Progress 

of Liberty, 119 
Extracts from speech on the Ameri- 
can War, 119, 120 
Compared with Demosthenes, 123 
Franklin, tribute by Mirabeau, 307 
Frere, John Hookham, 284 



Galba, S. , 26 
Gallus, Plotius, 31 
Gentlemen 's Magazine. 

Oratory of Disraeli, 277 
Gladstone, William Ewart, 263, 279, 
281-299 
Tribute to John Bright, 271 
Mid-Lothian campaign, 291 
Goodrich. 

Comment upon Demosthenes, 13 
Demosthenes compared with Fox, 

124 
Burke as an orator, 128 
Comments upon Grattan, 138, 139, 
148 
Goodwin, comment upon Fox, 123 
Gordon, Lord George, defence of, 

203 
Gorgias, 8 
Gracchus, Caius, 29 

" Tiberius, 28 
Grattan, Henry, 136-150 

Motion for a Declaration of Irish 

Right, 138 
Controversy with Flood, 140 
Invective against Corry, 142 
Extract from speech in Opposition 

to Union, 144 
Character as an orator, 145 



452 



INDEX. 



H 



Hadfield, defence of, 231 
Hamilton, Alexander, 321-328 

Extract from speech on the Consti- 
tution of the United States, 326 
Hancock, John, 319 

Extracts of speech to citizens of 

Boston, 320 
Extract from oration on Boston 
Massacre, 321 
Hardy, defence of, 213 
Harsha, 14 
Hastings, Warren, impeachment of, 

132-206 
Hayne, Robert Y., 396 
Henry, Patrick, 14, 319, 328-334 
First public appearance, 328 
Extract from speech Advising Re- 
sistance to British Aggression, 
332 
Homer, 2, 3 
Horsman, 263, 289 
Hortensia, 38 
Hortensius, 25, 35-39 



Isseus, 8, 9 
Isocrates, 8, 21 



I 



J 



Johnson, Dr., 97, 194 
Juvenal on the Roman Bar, 67 

K 

Kent, Chancellor, letter to Webster, 

396 
Kenyon, Lord, 243 
Keppel, Admiral, defence of, 202 
Knapp, prosecution of, 407 
Kossuth. 

Extract from speech at Bunker Hill, 
411 



Laelius, 27 
Lafayette, 310, 315 



Lee, Richard Henry, 319 

Lepidus, 27 

Logan in defence of Warren Hastings, 

206 
Longinus. 

Comparison between Demosthenes 
and Cicero, 20 
Lowe, 263, 268 
Lyman, General. 

Webster on Scratching Out, 423 
Lysias, 8, 21 



M 



Macaulay, 261, 298 
Mackintosh, Sir James. 

Description of Fox, 123 
March. 

Description of Webster in reply to 
Hayne, 398 
Marius, 32, 34 
Maximus, Q., 33 
Member for the Chiltern Hundreds. 

Mr. Gladstone as an orator, 288 
Mid-Lothian campaign, 290 
Milo, 49 
Mirabeau, Compte de, 303, 305-316 

Tribute to Franklin, 307 

Picture of a legal constitution, 309 

On the administration of Bailly and 
Lafayette, 310 

In support of Necker, 310 
Mitford, Miss Mary Russell. 

Description of Webster, 390 

N 

Necker, 310, 315 
Nottingham, Lord, 89 

O 

O'Connell, Daniel, 156-168 

Reply to Disraeli, 275 
Otis, James, 319, 334~338 

Extract from Vindication of the 
Colony of Massachusetts in 1762, 
337 



INDEX. 



453 



Park, James Allen, 248 
Paulus, Emilius, 28 
Parker. 

Comment on Rufus Choate, 444 
Pericles, 3-7 

Extract from Oration, 4 
Phalerius, Demetrius, 22 
Phillips, Charles. 

Grattan as an orator, 145, 149 
Pinkney, William, 347-351 
Pitt, William, 108-118 

On Peace with America, n I 

In reply to Fox, 112 

Choice of Canning, 169 
Pliny the Younger, 67 
Plutarch, 4 

Praed, Winthrop Mackworth, 284 
Praetors, the Roman, 40 
Prentiss, Sergeant S., 372-387 

Address on the Landing of the 
Pilgrims, 375 
Publicola, 25 



Quincy, Josiah, 319 

Extract from address to townsmen, 
320 
Quincy, Josiah. 

On the Union of the States, 406 
Quintilian. 66 



Randolph, John, 343-347 

Extract from speech on British In- 
fluence, 346 
Reid, T. W. 

John Bright as a speaker, 263 
Roscius, defence of, 50 



Salisbury, Lord, 279 
Scasvola, Mucius, 28, 36, 49 
Scarlett, Sir James, 252-261 

Extract from autobiography, 257 



Scipio Africanus, 27 
Scipio Nasica, 28 
Scriven, 166 
Senate, the Roman, 44 
Sentia, Amaesia, 38 
Sheil. 

Sketch of O'Connell, 156 
Smalley, G. W. 

Mid-Lothian campaign, 290 
Socrates, 8 

Stockdale, defence of, 207 
Story, Judge. 

Sketch of Pinkney, 348 
Sulpicius, 34 
Sylla, 35 



Tacitus, 66 
Talfourd, Sergeant. 

Estimate of Lord Brougham, 180 

Opinion of Erskine, 251 

Scarlett's method of conducting 
cases, 255 
Thucydides, 21, 285 
Tindal, Lord Chief Justice, 258 
Tooke, John Home, 216, 221 
Turner, Dr., 285 



U 



Ulpian, 68 
Underwood, Senator. 
Character of Henry Clay, 433 



Vergniaud, 77 

Verres, Cicero against, 54 

W 

Walpole, Horace. 

Answer to Lord Chatham, 97 

Opinion of Fox, 118 
Warren Joseph. 

Extract from speech on the Boston 
Massacre, 319 

Reference by Kossuth, 412 



454 



INDEX. 



Washington. 

Tribute by Lord Brougham, 183 
Webster, Daniel, 73, 384, 387-424 

Extracts from speech on Revolution 
in Greece, 391 

Extract from address at the laying 
of the corner-stone of the Bunker- 
Hill Monument, 393 

Extract from funeral discourse upon 
Adams and Jefferson, 394 

Extract from speech on the Bank 
Question, 395 

Extracts from Reply to Hayne, 400 

Prosecution of Knapp, 407 

Extract from address on the Com- 
pletion of the Bunker-Hill Monu- 
ment, 410 

Extract from address at the laying 
of the corner-stone of the addition 
to the Capitol at Washington, 
412 



Words on the Responsibility of an 

American Citizen, 414 
Extract from address before the 
New York Historical Society, 
415 
Rufus Choate's library, 446 
Wheaton. 

Sketch of Pinkney, 347 
Williams, prosecution of, 228 
Willis, 274 
Windham, 95, 113 
Wirt, 351-357 

Tribute to Lord Chatham, 106 
First public appearance of Patrick 

Henry, 328 
Letter on Improvement in Elo- 
quence, 351 
Account of the blind minister's ser- 
mon* 355 
Wraxall. 

Remarks on Burke, 128 




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